N Gauge Forum

This is one of those tales, which interest some members and infuriate others, of the characters living in and around our layouts.
This particular story will involve several of my layouts including Camelbridge, Perranwell, Tregonning, st Agnes, Wadebridge depot and Trepol Bay.
I've put the story under the General Discussion thread to avoid clogging up my layout threads.

Anyway, here goes but first a little glimpse of my St Agnes Whisky Distillery layout. St Agnes doesn't feature in the storyline just yet but sets the scene, I think, rather well for what is to follow :
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-040923164517.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135337)

Now - onto the story itself :


The Angels' Share

[I make no apologies for stealing the title, and the inspiration for, this little tale from Ken Loach's marvellous 2012 film The Angels' Share. If you haven't watched it I urge  you to do so]


Setting the scene – Glasgow (1940 to 1963)

Hamish Johnstone, born in Glasgow in 1940 at the beginning of the second world war, had grown up in Bedford Lane at the very heart of the Gorbals.

Known to his many friends as Jimmy, after the great Scottish footballer of a similar era, Hamish had left school with absolutely no qualifications to his name but had learned, of course, how to look after himself. One might say he was a graduate of the University of Life.
In fact he rarely went to school at all bacause as the eldest  child of four, he had two brothers and a sister, he took it upon himself to look after his mother and siblings after his father left the family home when he was twelve.

Hamish was well used to taking  any opportunity that presented itself in order to earn a few pennies here and there whenever he could.

At the age of fourteen he discovered, quite by chance, that he possessed a unique and potentially useful talent but more of that a little later.

Hamish's Uncle Tom was a warehouse floor worker  at the Auchentoshan whisky distillery to the North East of Glasgow.
At that time the majority of whisky produced  went towards the production of blended malts such as Johnny Walker, Haig or White Horse rather than being sold as a single malt.  Indeed ninety eight percent of the spirit from Auchentoshan was sold on to one or other  of the great blenders.
The remaining  two per cent was bottled at Auchentoshan as single malt and as such, even in the mid 1960s, commanded a premium price.

When the opportunity presented itself, Uncle Tom was not averse to helping himself to the odd bottle of the single malt which he traded as "currency" in his local pub The Harp, in the heart of the Gorbals,  in exchange for free beer.

One evening, Tom had taken young Hamish, we'll call him Jimmy henceforth,, into The Harp and, even though he was only fourteen, poured him a goodly measure of Auchentoshan.

Jimmy, although semi illiterate, was worldly wise and was well aware that wealthy, well to do individuals, savoured single malts above the more readily available blends.  Indeed, whilst employed collecting glasses at the rather up market Glenfinnan  Hotel in the city, he had witnessed  wealthy businessmen and others enjoying the aroma of single malts and commenting, knowingly, on  the flavour, nodding sagely as they did so.

As Jimmy took the glass of Auchentoshan from his uncle he took a sniff.

Tom looked on in astonishment... "Freshly cut hay, ripe blackberries and a hint of spiced ginger if I'm not mistaken"  muttered Jimmy before taking a sip, "Yes, as I thought, slightly syrupy, brown sugar, baked apples and raspberries and with  a lovely long, lingering finis. Maybe even  a touch of honey in there too".

Uncle Tom was open mouthed, "Jimmy, those tasting notes are almost identical to those described by the master distiller at work. Can you really taste and smell those flavours?"

Tom immediately  turned to Joe the landlord of the Harp "Fetch that bottle of extra special malt I brought in last week Joe. Let's see what Jimmy has to say about that one".

Once again, Jimmy's flavour notes were remarkably similar to those of the master distiller.
"Where on earth did you learn to do that?" Tom said to Jimmy.
"Oh you know, I've just tried a few tots in The Glenfinnan", replied Jimmy, "I'm rather partial to a wee dram especially if some toff happens to not realise he's paid for two glasses rather than one".

Walking home that evening Tom was formulating a plan in his mind..."Young Jimmy, how do you fancy earning a few extra shillings each week? I have a plan"

And so, Tom's little scheme gradually developed.

Over the next few weeks Tom smuggled several bottles of whisky home from the distillery including some that contained spirit that was up to forty years old.
The trouble was that usually the bottles were not labelled so Tom didn't know exactly which whisky was in each one.
Jimmy's role was to sample the whiskies and match them to the tasting notes of the master distiller thus enabling Tom to sell the bottles on to some  of the more illustrious hotels in and around Glasgow.

It was clear that Jimmy possessed a quite remarkable palate producing a nice steady income from both Tom and Jimmy.

Over the next few years Jimmy developed his palate even further, eventually taking up a position as junior blender at the Auchentoshan distillery, a role that paid extremely well.

The big problem was that holding down a responsible job didn't suit Jimmy at all. He much preferred the excitement  of  underhand dealing and the freedom of being able to do what he wanted when he wanted.

In early  1963, Jimmy heard about a brand new whisky distillery in, of all places, Cornwall. The distillery had developed, over a few short years, a remarkable reputation for its products.
Jimmy was intrigued. So much so that, on a whim,  he headed south by train in November of that year.

To be continued











 

I am one of those interested members. I look forward to the next instalment. (Out of interest, do you know if 'Auchentoshan' is anything like 'Jura'?  ???  :) ).

Cancel that last bit Martin. I have been reading the tasting notes and reviews for 'Jura' and they tend to confirm what I thought when I opened my last bottle - something has changed and not necessarily for the better.  :no: . However, having read the tasting notes and reviews for 'Auchentoshan', I will be looking out for it.  :)

The Angels' Share - Part Two

First a rather poor photograph of the Withered Bough public house which will feature in this episode
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-050923083035.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135347)

Jimmy's trip to Cornwall was largely uneventful even though his knowledge of railway timetabling was, shall we say, somewhat limited.
He didn't, of course, purchase any tickets.
Why would he?
He was skilled in the art of dodging the ticket collector, or anyone in authority for that matter, and wily as a fox. However  what he didn't possess was any geographical sense.  He knew Cornwall was a long way but hadn't banked on it being quite so far.
An overnight stay in Bristol was involved simply because his train terminated there and there were no overnight onward connections. A long night was spent on a bench in the waiting room at Temple Meads station.

Nonetheless early on a Thursday morning Jimmy boarded a service to Exeter St David's headed by a rather wheezy Hall class of locomotive.
For some reason, known only to himself, Jimmy then took a Southern service into Cornwall but was a little perplexed  to find that this train departed East from Exeter in the direction from whence he had just arrived. He had no idea where he was headed but had for some unknown reason  heard mention of a town called Wadebridge so made up his mind to alight there.

Eventually, after a two hour journey that involved a stop at every conceivable wayside station, the train, headed by an ageing T9 4-4-0 pulled into Wadebridge station.

Jimmy alighted then had a look around the station. How could he exit without having to pass the ticket collector?
He was well aware of the old trick of looking confident. Show hesitation and one would attract attention but act in a confident way and no one would ask questions.
As luck would have it there was a gate, used by the Royal Mail for delivering parcels, about three quarters of the way along the platform. Jimmy's trained eye spotted that it was unlocked and in a flash he was outside standing at the junction of Southern Way and Guineaport Street.
 He looked at his watch which showed 12-15pm.

Jimmy paused. He realised he had no plan whatsoever. The only thing he knew about Cornwall was that the St Agnes Whisky distillery could, in one way or another, offer him some sort of  opportunity, illicit or otherwise. Plus, he needed to get away from Scotland and make a fresh start somewhere new.

He took a walk through town popping into a shop to purchase a pastry thing as he was hungry. It was then that he realised that he could barely understand what the locals were saying and worse, they couldn't understand him.
Nonetheless he had managed to discern that it was a pasty which he had purchased and sat on a bench to eat it and have a think.
If he was to discover anything about the local  whisky what better place to start than a pub so he scanned the street up and down before settling on The Penny Farthing, a rather scruffy looking establishment situated half way along a side street.

Jimmy was used to seedy, rough local pubs but this one surprised even him. As he walked in he felt at least twenty pairs of eyes follow Him as he walked slowly to the little bar.
Standing at the bar he was somewhat bemused that the landlord made no attempt to serve him.
"A pint of your best" said Jimmy.
The landlord looked him in the eye, "We don't serve foreigners in here. Especially Scottish ones that I can't understand".
To Jimmy this was a challenge. He calmly took a bundle of ten  pound notes from his pocket and peeled one off, never once taking his eyes off the landlord.

"As I say" continued Jimmy, "A pint of your best and one for everyone in here if you don't mind".
The landlord looked around, eventually receiving a curt nod from a large, balding chap standing, nursing a pint, at the end of the bar.
The rather surly landlord poured Jimmy's pint and took the note but offering no change in return and saying nothing..
It was the large chap at the end of the bar who broke the silence "I'll take a drink with you stranger but first, what do you want in here?"
This was just the break that Jimmy needed "Let's sit at the table over there. Perhaps you can give me some information. In return I'll keep you in ale".
After an hour or so in which Jimmy discovered that Bert was a local villain he started asking about St Agnes whisky.
"We don't have that in here" said Bert "You'll need a posh pub the likes of which don't allow me or my mates  in. Probably best to try the Withered Bough over at the back of the railway sheds down by the river. Why are you interested anyway?"
Jimmy winked, "Thanks Bert. I sense a little business opportunity if you know what I mean? Enough said?".

With that Jimmy finished his pint and headed back out into town.
He decided to find somewhere to sleep for the night eventually finding someone with a room to let on the outskirts of town. It was a bit rough and ready but it would do.
After a bit of a rest and a tidy up he set off in the early evening to find the Withered Bough.

Jimmy eventually found the pub. It was not in the most attractive of areas immediately behind the railway sheds but it backed onto the river and had a nice extension area presumably for diners. Maybe he would buy himself something to eat later.

On entering he was immediately aware that this was a very different establishment from  the Penny  Farthing.
A blackboard near to the entrance welcomed customers and  offered chicken in a basket and black forest gateau amongst other things but it was what was on a shelf behind the bar that immediately attracted Jimmy's attention, a bottle of St Agnes Whisky – Distiller' Choice ten years old.

You have to admire the ivy growing up the walls. 

Great stuff, thank you, Martin.

You mentioned in your introduction to Part One that your story might infuriate some members of our FabulousForum.  I can't imagine that to be the case at all.  A nice little story, illustrated with charming pictures, is one of the joys of model railways since at least John Ahern and PD Hancock's time.  And that's just published ones!  Think how many young people made up stories when playing with their toy trains - I certainly did.

I'm hoping it's chicken in a basket followed by Black Forest gateau for tea tonight.  Perhaps, if I'm especially fortunate, accompanied by a lovely bottle of 'Blue Nun'.

I'm looking forward to Part Three.

Thanks again and all best wishes.

John

Part Three

Jimmy felt somewhat out of place in the Withered Bough. Most of the other customers were couples or foursomes out for an after work meal or just a drink. However, he felt much  more  comfortable than he had earlier in the Penny Farthing and was glad that he'd taken the trouble to spruce himself up and put on a decent pair of  trousers and a sports jacket.

Jimmy's eyes were fixed on the bottle of St Agnes whisky sitting on the top shelf and his mind started to wander back to his days of endless tastings at the Auchentoshan distillery in Glasgow.
He was quickly brought back to his senses by the barmaid, "What can I get you sir" she said smiling radiantly.
"Oh, yes, of course", stuttered Jimmy who had given no consideration to what he might drink. His eyes quickly scanned the beer pumps. "A pint of Summer Lightning if I could".
"Certainly sir. And will you be dining with us this evening?"

Jimmy was certainly hungry so opted to say, "Yes please. Do you have a table for one?"

Before the barmaid could answer two well dressed young men, probably in their mid thirties, strode up to the bar next to Jimmy who immediately noticed that one of them was carrying a case of six bottles of St Agnes whisky which he unceremoniously plonked onto the bar accidentally brushing Jimmy's arm as he did so.
"So, sorry old chap", said the man who had been carrying the case.
"No worries at all", replied Jimmy eager to learn who these two chaps were.

The barmaid, obviously distracted by the appearance of the two men quickly regained her composure saying "Sorry, Mr Biggins, Mr McLeary, I'll just finish serving this gentleman"
Turning back to Jimmy she enquired "Sorry Sir, you were about to confirm whether you will be dining with us this evening?"
"Ah yes please", replied Jimmy, "Could I see the menu please?"

The barmaid handed Jimmy the menu then turned her attention to the two men, "Sorry she said" looking at both men, "Unfortunately George the landlord  isn't here this evening but I'll leave the case of whisky in the cellar for him. I'll ask him to give you a call in the morning".
"Perfect", replied the taller of the two men, "We'll have two pints of best if we could. It's been a long, hot day over at the distillery. Meetings all day".

Jimmy"s ears pricked up. As soon as the two men had received their drinks he took the opportunity to introduce himself. This seemed to be a heaven sent opportunity. A chance to meet someone from the St Agnes distillery on his very first day in Cornwall.

It wasn't long before Jimmy was enjoying an early dinner with Tom Biggins and Ross McLeary the master distiller and general manager of the St Agnes Distillery.
The two men were extremely interested to learn of Jimmy's remarkable palate and his ability to identify flavours and smells in whisky.
Quite by chance the two men were meeting with the Chairman of the distillery, William Murdoch-McLeod, that vety evening at the Station Hotel in Trepol Bay. They invited Jimmy along with them.

Soon, all three men were aboard a train from Wadebridge headed for Trepol Bay.

Jimmy couldn't believe what was happening......and all on his first day in the far South.

The photograph shows the train, with the three men on board, heading away from Wadebridge towards Trepol Bay
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-050923190025.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135351)

Hi Martin,

Just catching up after working in the heat. Like the story very much and great pics as usual  :thumbsup: .

Looking forward to more.

Cheers, weave  :beers:

Part Four

The evening was still young as the three men stepped down from the train at Trepol Bay station and made their way over the concrete footbridge to the nearby Station Hotel.

William Murdoch-McLeod was already there sitting at a round table in the far corner of the bar. William was a big man with a loud, booming voice accentuated by a very broad Scottish accent.
"Welcome, welcome Tom and Ross how are you both? And who is this young chappie you've brought along with you?"

With the introductions over the four men settled down to enjoy their pints. The Chairman was intrigued to learn all about Jimmy's  talent for whisky tasting  and it wasn't long before he produced a small sample bottle of St Agnes 25 year old from his briefcase.
He watched with interest as Jimmy nosed a sample and then took a sip and was absolutely dumfounded when the young Scot was able to identify the various flavours and aromas.

Jimmy, on the other hand, was desperately keen to learn more about the St Agnes distillery. He needed to learn as much as he could.
He had heard a rumour whilst working at the Auchentoshan distillery that the founders of the St Agnes distillery had purchased four casks of whisky from the Ladyburn distillery south of Glasgow.
Ladyburn was in a financial crisis with rumours that closure was imminent but it was well known that they held reserves of whisky from the mid twenties which would make them 40 years old.
Jimmy would dearly love to get his hands on a few bottles of the stuff.
He'd need to find out a lot more but knew it was vital not to appear too inquisitive at this early stage.

Nonetheless, a seed was sown. In fact Jimmy was invited over to St Agnes the next afternoon for a look round the distillery and to sample some of their products.
This was an opportunity far too good to turn down.

Eventually, having enjoyed a very productive evening Jimmy caught the last train back to Wadebridge arriving at just after 11-15.
He had to admit, giving himself a wry smile, that all four men had been particularly open , welcoming and trusting.

Making his way back to his lodgings in Wadebridge, as fate would have it, he happened  bump into Big Bert, the man he'd talked to in the Penny Farthing that lunchtime.
Bert had obviously been enjoying a few pints during the evening which had loosened his tongue.

"Ah, Jimmy lad. Just the person. I've been asking around after our little chat at lunchtime and  I might have a little business to put your way concerning that there local whisky that you were telling me about. Could be a nice little earner for the both of us if you get my drift".

Jimmy was very tired after a long day but, intrigued, he agreed, a trifle reluctantly, to meet Bert in the Penny Farthing at 11-00 the next morning prior to  catching the train over to St Agnes.

The photograph shows Jimmy making his way carefully back over the concrete footbridge at Trepol Bay ready to catch a train back to Wadebridge
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-060923130748.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135363)

OK, I'm hooked  :)  :thumbsup:


Ed

Quote from: weave on September 05, 2023, 10:38:22 PMHi Martin,

Just catching up after working in the heat. Like the story very much and great pics as usual  :thumbsup: .

Looking forward to more.

Cheers, weave  :beers:

Seconded! It's surprisingly hot in Prague, too and I'm also back at work.

Love the evening scene martin

Well that reminds me of the last time I was in St Agnes on business, yes, I had a rather sore head.

Quote from: Nbodger on September 06, 2023, 06:50:00 PMWell that reminds me of the last time I was in St Agnes on business, yes, I had a rather sore head.

So sorry to hear that, Mike.  Did you hit it on something - a low doorway, perhaps?

Best wishes

John

Quote from: Train Waiting on September 06, 2023, 07:30:32 PM

Quote from: Nbodger on September 06, 2023, 06:50:00 PMWell that reminds me of the last time I was in St Agnes on business, yes, I had a rather sore head.

So sorry to hear that, Mike.  Did you hit it on something - a low doorway, perhaps?

Best wishes

John

No, he tripped walking down the hill at Stippy Stappy [you might need to ask Mr  Google what that is]

Part Five

Jimmy slept somewhat fitfully that night. He was a little apprehensive about meeting up with Big Bert.
Bert was, no doubt, a small time petty criminal but Jimmy had much greater aspirations. Nevertheless, after careful thought, Jimmy decided that although he had no need to become involved with any of Bert's schemes he thought that, if nothing else, Bert might just be able to provide some useful background information.

Having come to a decision to meet Bert at eleven, Jimmy slept much better for the last three hours or so before he woke at eight.
He enjoyed an unexpectedly good breakfast cooked by his landlady, Mrs Parr, before setting off to explore the town of Wadebridge.

At eleven, on the dot, Jimmy entered the Penny Farthing to find Big Bert sitting at a table at the far end of the bar nursing a pint of which he had already consumed two thirds.
This time the landlord was much more communicative, welcoming Jimmy, who ordered a half of bitter, and remarked on the mild weather.

Jimmy took his drink and sat down at the table opposite Bert.

"So Bert, let's get straight to the point as I have a train to catch at twelve fifteen, you have some sort of proposition for me I gather?"
"Just thought you might be interested in a bit of info", muttered Bert in reply, "I know a lot of people around here and throughout  Cornwall. I've heard a lot of good things  about that distillery over at St Agnes but I'm a beer man, I know nothing of whisky except that word has it that they are making some good stuff and good stuff means good money".

Jimmy listened, keen to learn what Bert had to say but not so keen to become too involved, especially at this early stage. "Go on Bert. Tell me more".

Bert looked down at his empty pint pot. "Another pint here landlord if you please" said Jimmy looking over to the landlord who was reading his copy of The Western Morning News.

Bert continued "I've heard a whisper that the whisky people are storing their barrels over at a place called Tregonning. It's in an old store shed with an old ice store next door. I've heard tell they call it a dunnage store or summat. Anyway, my mate tells me it's none too secure. How's about we help ourselves to a few bottles? They probably won't even notice if we don't take too many".

Jimmy sighed to himself. He had no intention of becoming involved in such a minor little, small time escapade. He had  much grander ideas,  but it was good to know that the distillery are using a warehouse away from their main site.
No doubt he'd learn all about it this afternoon in any case when he visits the distillery. He might even suggest that they increase security at the warehouse.

"Well Bert, that is interesting news. It's not something that I'd normally get involved with but let me think about it if you don't mind. Right now though I'm afraid that I must dash, my train will be due shortly".
Big Bert seemed, somewhat surprisingly, to accept Jimmy's response so the Scotsman left, leaving a few pennies on the bar in payment for another pint for Bert.

Jimmy's train was right on time leaving Wadebridge (for those interested it was hauled by an N Class SR mogul), arriving at St Agnes halt, which is adjacent to the distillery, at one thirty where he was met by Ross McLeary.
The two men chatted amicably as they made their way towards the impressive looking distillery.

Jimmy was looking forward to the afternoon, eager to absorb as much information as possible. He was genuinely interested in what was happening at the Cornish distillery.

A view of the distillery
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-070923175526.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135389)

Glad I've stumbled upon this, looking forward to reading about the adventures of Jimmy.

This story is developing at a cracking pace.  :thumbsup:

Quote from: keithbythe sea on September 08, 2023, 07:26:50 AMThis story is developing at a cracking pace.

No it's not.  ;) . It is nearly 24 hours since the last instalment!  :( . Only joking Martin, I appreciate that you have to eat and sleep, which takes time.  :)

Part Six

First a photograph
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-080923160429.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135405)
The distribution yard at the St Agnes distillery in 1963 at the time of Jimmy's visit. Note how busy it appears to be.
Will Jimmy be impressed?
What will he be thinking?
Where is this all leading?

The distillery visit

Jimmy couldn't have wished for more.

His tour of the distillery was thoroughly interesting and involved a complete run through of the entire process. He marvelled at the ingenious shape of the two copper stills especially designed to produce a nice light, floral spirit.

It was fascinating to learn that local water is used from a small stream that runs down the valley into St Agnes and that ninety percent of the barley originates from West Devon.

The distillery opened on a commercial basis in 1958 with the first spirit flowing in October of that year.
The first casks were filled in October of 1961.
Thus by 1962/63 there are large supplies of three, four and five year old whiskies building up.
In terms of maturity this is still very young whisky which greatly increases in character if left to mature for ten years or longer but the "novelty value" of it being "Cornish Whisky" means that it is, even at a young age, a very saleable product.

Interestingly,  Jimmy learned that the Rundle family who own the distillery have been producing whisky on a much smaller, non commercial basis but under license, since the late 1920s.
Much of this older whisky is still stored away meaning that stocks of twenty, twenty five and even thirty year old casks are available.
Jimmy marvelled at the economic foresight that the Rundle family had shown in building up such an investment.

The distillery have, over the years, used various casks for maturing their whisky but generally have utilised a combination of virgin European oak, American oak and ex, first fill, bourbon casks.
Latterly though the distillers have been experimenting more with ex Oloroso sherry casks and red wine casks for finishing the ageing process.
The very latest experiment involves the use of peat smoked barley in small quantities to produce a slight smokiness to the whisky.

Jimmy was fascinated and intrigued. These Cornish distillers seemed to be taking a highly innovative approach to whisky production but were managing to keep their produce, for now, somewhat under the radar.
He could sense a very bright future for the distillery  but, of course, he was also interested in how he could also profit from it. All sorts of ideas and schemes were formulating in his head.

Later in the afternoon Jimmy found himself in the tasting room with a flight of six St Agnes whiskies in front of him. Some were from the current releases but others were from the stored and well aged stock.

He was to sample :
St Agnes – Select (Aged 5 years)
St Agnes Gold (Aged 4 years)
St Agnes Distiller's Cut (Aged 3 years)
William Rundle Reserve (15 years old)
William Rundle Reserve (24 years old)
William Rundle Original Select (Aged 31 years)

By this time William Rundle and his wife Annie had arrived to join Jimmy, Ross McLeary, Tom Biggins and William Murdoch-McLeod.
William Rundle, actually Sir William, and his wife Lady Annabelle have owned the distillery since William's father, Sir Thomas Rundle, passed away in the early 1950s.
The Rundle family have been well respected farmers/land owners in Cornwall since at least the 1750s.
It was Sir Thomas who originally floated the idea of whisky distillation in Cornwall and had dabbled with production on a small scale but it was to be William who took production to the next level with construction of the distillery.

Jimmy was a little overawed by meeting Sir William but was quickly put at ease by the owner's relaxed manner "My wife and I hate formality" said Sir William introducing himself and his wife, "We much prefer to be known as Bill and Annie, all of the  staff here call us by our first names".

Everyone was desperately keen to hear Jimmy's opinion on each of the whiskies. Bill and William Murdoch-McLean in particular were incredibly impressed and amazed by his ability to identify the various aromas and flavours.
Jimmy, for his part, recognised the fact that these were all very fine whiskies. He particularly liked the 5 year old and the 31 year old singling these two out for special mention.

There followed detailed discussion around the various whiskies and the future of Cornish whisky  which culminated with Bill and Annie inviting everyone over to the dunnage store at Tregonning where Bill suggested they sample the oldest whisky a 37 year old cask laid down by the late Sir Thomas in 1928 and thought to be the very first cask produced by the family at the old Trevaunance warehouse. The whisky has remained in the cask since it was first distilled with none having ever been bottled.

Jimmy was fascinated and intrigued as they all set off, by train of course, for Tregonning.

An excellent story developing quickly.

does anyone remember the Mad magazine ?

Sometimes an issue would feature a long, interesting, involved story--spread over several part pages in the magazine. As the plot got more involved--at the foot of a page it might say  "continued on page 83"

But there was no page 83.

Quote from: Bigmac on September 08, 2023, 08:19:35 PMdoes anyone remember the Mad magazine ?

Sometimes an issue would feature a long, interesting, involved story--spread over several part pages in the magazine. As the plot got more involved--at the foot of a page it might say  "continued on page 83"

But there was no page 83.

Oh, yes. I remember those. An American schoolfriend used to have those magazines at home.

Part Seven

Jimmy was getting used to the protracted railway journeys in Cornwall, it always seemed to take forever to get from one place to another.
St Agnes to Tregonning was no different. In late afternoon it  took some 90 minutes to cover a distance of just 22 miles.
Bill and Annie Rundle could, of course, have used their two Daimlers but they are both great advocates of local public transport which they use whenever possible and so the train it had to be.

The party arrived at the rather grand village station in Tregonning at 4-45 and on Bill's insistence they  would walk the three quarters of a mile or so through the village to the old so called dunnage warehouse on the Summercourt road.
Their walk, on this pleasant evening took them past the Railway Inn which was just along the road from the station. The pub was busy with several people making use of the outside benches.

As they walked past  they heard someone shout out "Jimmy lad. What are you doing here? Come on in and have a pint with us".

Jimmy was momentarily taken aback. As he looked over his shoulder he saw Big Bert standing in the doorway, pint in hand and swaying slightly.
Jimmy quickly excused himself from the distillery party and taking Bert by the arm he marched him into the bar.
"Not now Bert, I'm on important business I'm afraid. I'll see you in the Farthing tomorrow and fill you in".
Rather surprisingly this seemed to satisfy Bert who rejoined his friends at the bar allowing Jimmy to catch up with the folk from the distillery.
He made an excuse that Bert was someone staying at the same digs as him in Wadebridge.

"You're staying in digs in Wadebridge?" said a surprised Bill Rundle, "We can't be having that. Annie, surely you know somewhere better for young Jimmy? How about the Cedars hotel in Aggie [St Agnes]. They have some rather nice rooms I believe. Can you fix something up?"

"Of course darling", responded Annie as the group continued up the hill towards the warehouse,  "I'll arrange something first thing tomorrow. We can't have young Jim roughing it".

As they approached the warehouse Jimmy, every watchful as one had to be growing up in the Gorbals, caught a glimpse of someone running up the adjacent lane and slithering down the grassy bank towards the somewhat ramshackle building.
"So that's why Big Bert was in the pub back there" he thought to himself.

Jimmy had to act quickly. No doubt Big Bert and his friends were attempting to rob the warehouse to obtain some bottles of whisky to sell on.
Jimmy had fully intended to explain to Bert when he saw him tomorrow that there would be no bottles stored there, only large casks, but it was too late. He hadn't expected Bert to act so quickly.

What on earth could he do?  The last thing Jimmy wanted to happen was for Sir William and the others to Become suspicious of him. It wouldn't take much for one of the potential robbers to implicate him in some way.

Jimmy suspected that the person slithering down the bank had been sent up from the village pub to warn others who were possibly already in the warehouse.

Suddenly, Jimmy had an idea........

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-090923162518.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135436)
The train from St Agnes arriving at a busy Tregonning.
The Railway Inn is behind the Pickford's lorry

Don't stop there
Now in suspenders until the next episode  :-X

Quote from: Nbodger on September 09, 2023, 06:19:49 PMNow in suspenders until the next episode  :-X

Please don't tell me you have joined the @Trainfish club!  ;D

Meanwhile.........over at Sonmel

https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?topic=31384.msg808194#msg808194

Part Eight

Meanwhile in the Railway Inn, Big Bert was becoming rather agitated.
"Why was Jimmy Johnstone hobnobbing it with that posh lot?", he muttered to his pal Dave, "And where are the others? I only hope young Tom managed to get up to the warehouse before Jimmy and his gang got there. What do you think Dave?"

"I dunno", was Dave's reply, "it's all your fault  anyhow, putting your trust in that Scottish laddie when you know next to nothing about him".

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
  Sorry a bit late to the party,no worries caught up now though with a glass or two of Gentlemen Jack, (one of my favourites).
  Excellent storyline Martin with the superb photos  :thumbsup:
 :beers: stay safe regards Derek

Part Nine

Jimmy and the others were making their way up the hill away from Tregonning with good views across towards St Austell Bay away to their right in the far distance.
They were only about two hundred and fifty yards from the warehouse but there was a twenty foot high bank to their left separating the lane they were walking up from the slightly overgrown path where Jimmy had seen the lad running past before slithering  down the grassy bank.

It was a lovely sunny early evening, one of those evenings where the air is clear and it's possible to see for miles. In fact, it was easily possible to view the horizon way beyond the distant shoreline.
Jimmy could just make out a couple of  largish boats way out to sea.

Knowing that he had to distract everyone else before they got any closer to the warehouse, in order to give Bert's associates time to exit discretely,  he suddenly called out to everyone, "What a fabulous view out to sea. It's given me an idea", he said directing his gaze  to Sir William in particular.

Everyone came to a halt, gazing  in the general direction of St Austell Bay.
"What's on your mind Jimmy lad?" said  Sir William.
"Well Bill, I'm thinking that as you have great plans to market St Agnes whisky more widely, why not start to think about the overseas market? I know from my time at Auchentoshan that many of the great Scottish distilleries are looking at India, Japan and the United States along with several European countries so why don't you try to get ahead of the game as it were. I've heard tell that you've already arranged for a crate to be despatched to a place called Sonmel courtesy of  your friend Lord Pugh and I gather there is a possibility of another consignment going to a small place in, of all places, Scotland, so why not start to think bigger?"

Sir William looked on with interest, "Well, Jimmy, you are remarkably well informed. Food for thought indeed but can we press on to the warehouse? I'm starting to feel rather thirsty and I think I've got a real treat in store for you".

Jimmy's little plan had worked perfectly. The five minute delay would surely allow Bert's assistants to get themselves well clear of the scene.

The party  continued on their way shortly arriving at a somewhat dilapidated wooden door in the side of a deceptively large granite building which was almost completely covered with ivy and bracken.
Jimmy was relieved to see that the door was firmly shut.

On entering William Murdoch-McLean reached round behind the door to find a rather ancient light switch which he flicked on.
Immediately the building was illuminated, albeit dimly, by the single light bulb hanging from a cord in the middle of the ceiling.

Jimmy was amazed. The room contained at least fifty barrels together with perhaps ten of the bigger hogshead barrels.

As he  was taking in the scene he was led to the rear of the building where another door led outside then down ten or so well worn granite steps to a smaller round building containing yet more barrels.
"This is the old salt store", explained Tom Biggins, "It's in here that our oldest whiskies are stored including a few real gems purchased and laid down by Sir William's father many years ago. We have four barrels from the long closed Ladyburn distillery, two at thirty five years vintage, one at forty and one at, wait for it, fifty years plus we have two forty year old barrels from Auchtermuchty  that are both 41 years old".

Jimmy was amazed. He'd heard tell of the Ladyburn barrels being in Cornwall but not of the two from the legendary Auchtermuchty distillery.
Tom continued, "And that's not all, we also have some early examples of our own spirit aged thirty five, thirty four and thirty yeears. You have, of course, already sampled the oldest St Agnes whisky, the thirty seven year old, up at the distillery the other day".

Jimmy calculated that the whisky in this room alone must be worth tens of thousands of pounds.

Ross McLeary chipped in, "Most of the barrels in this room have, to the best of our knowledge, never been sampled. I don't suggest we try them all right now but how about we just try a dram of the forty one year old Auchtermuchty?"

Jimmy's eyes lit up in anticipation. He wondered what his Uncle Tom would make of all of this.

Ross produced an ageing vallinch from an old cupboard in the corner then expertly removed the bung from the barrel before carefully  slipping the vallinch into the liquid in order to remove just enough to fill six  glasses, also from the cupboard, one each member of the party.

Everyone present possessed a reasonable, if not good,  palate for whisky but all eyes  were fixed on Jimmy as he nosed the bright, golden liquid in his glass before taking a sip.

There was a long, long pause before Jimmy placed his glass down onto a small rickety table, "That is quite, quite exquisite" was his initial reaction, "Possibly, no, definitely, the finest dram I have ever tasted. The nose is simply sublime. Scottish heather, vanilla and crushed almonds with a touch, just a touch, of crushed ginger. The taste is even better with wild raspberries and other Summer fruits dominating but with vanilla, oak and crushed raisins as a backdrop. And the liquid is oh so very smooth and velvety".

As Jimmy finished speaking the others, relieved but not at all surprised, that the whisky had met with his approval, burst into a round of applause before sampling the contents of their own glasses.

Everyone present was equally impressed with the quality of the whisky they had just tasted.

All too soon, however, and  with time rushing by, it was time to catch the train back to St Agnes. But just before they all left the warehouse Sir William turned to Jimmy saying "Young man, I have a proposition for you. Please will you come to my office in the distillery at two tomorrow afternoon?"

Jimmy immediately realised what the owner had in mind but played it very casually, "Of course, Bill", remembering that Sir William favoured informality, "I'd be pleased to hear what you have to say to me".

And so it was that the group left the warehouse for the walk back down the hill to Tregonning station.
Before they left though William took care to make sure that the door was bolted and securely locked.

The train left Tregonning at eight thirty with an expected arrival at St Agnes of ten o'clock.

Jimmy, of course, would be alighting at Wadebridge. He had important business to conduct  with Big Bert tomorrow and he had strong suspicions that Bert wouldn't be at all happy to hear what he had to say.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-100923165019.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135510)
The train for St Agnes about to depart the bay platform at Tregonning

Part Ten

Jimmy enjoyed an excellent night's sleep then spent an hour or so in bed mulling over everything that he had happened the day before.
There had certainly been some amazing discoveries, especially the whiskies of such great vintage held in the warehouses at Tregonning and added to that was the enthusiasm and knowledge shared by both owners and staff members.

However, did Jimmy want to become involved? He fully expected Sir William to offer him some sort of job later in the day. It was an enticing prospect but one he hadn't even considered two days ago and after all, Jimmy has always liked to be his own man , free to do what he wanted when he wanted and never mind if a few rules were broken  along the way.

First though, was the thorny little problem of Big Bert to deal with. He hadn't expected Bert to act so quickly in trying to force an entry into the warehouse. Indeed, Jimmy had formulated a bit of a plan, hopefully with Bert's help, to perhaps get his hands on one of the barrels then bottle the spirit before selling it on. Bert's over zealous reaction had put an end to that idea.

Jimmy needed to be at St Agnes for two in the afternoon. That would mean catching a train from Wadebridge at 12.30 with  a change at Trepol Bay at 12-55 and that in turn would mean an 11-30 meeting with Bert in the Penny Farthing.

And so, at just before 11-30 Jimmy entered the pub. Big Bert was sitting at his usual table with two other men, one either side of him, whom Jimmy didn't recognise.
As Jimmy walked in the landlord glowered, Big Bert glowered and the two henchman stared, stoney faced.

Jimmy knew how to handle this sort of situation but, just to be on the safe side, he'd purchased a crate of a dozen bottles of Dimple Haig from the off license just up the road which he'd left just inside the pub's front door as insurance.

Bert was raging. He ranted at Jimmy, "Don't you ever treat me like that again you Scottish toerag. No one treats me like that. You said we could break into those warehouses and take what we wanted. You said there would be bottles of whisky just sitting there for the taking. I promised the landlord at The Railway Inn half a dozen bottles along with the landlord here. Neither of them are happy and I don't like letting people down".

Jimmy listened, unmoved "I said no such thing. You simply presumed that there would be bottles there. If you'd listened properly you'd have known that I was checking the place out and devising a plan that would be of benefit to the two of us. You, however, went your own sweet way and decided to wade in anyway".

"I don't care what you say", roared Bert, "I just want my whisky. You'd better sort something out or my two boys here will be after you and you wouldn't want to mess with them. You'd better get me some whisky so that I don't have to let people down. I don't like letting folk down".

"You are being totally unreasonable" replied Jimmy, "I have no intention of working with you again. I have much more important business this afternoon, business that would have been beneficial to you and your friends but that's all forgotten now".

Jimmy got up and walked slowly to the door.
"Don't you walk out on me" yelled Bert, "No one ever walks out on me. If you keep walking you are going to regret it big time. Joe and Eric here will see to that. You get me my whisky now or you'll be in big trouble".

Jimmy kept on walking towards the door which he opened slowly and deliberately. He then looked over his shoulder, "Nice to do business with you Bert and by the way, just so that you aren't out of pocket, there's a little something for your trouble just inside the front door. Goodbye"

Jimmy didn't expect to hear from Big Bert again.

He made his way to the station arriving just as a rather decrepit looking T9 class locomotive drew in with two suburban carriages.
The train made it's way toward Trepol Bay where it arrived at 12-55.

Jimmy just had time to change trains before an ex GW prarie tank arrived with the train to St Agnes which would be reached at 13-20 leaving plenty of time to wander over to the distillery where he arrived in good time to meet Sir William.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-110923175535.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135519)
The train for St Agnes departs Trepol Bay with Jimmy safely aboard

Lovely to see Trepol Bay, again. A very nice bonus to the story.

Agree there. And a lovely photo

Quote from: Chris in Prague on September 11, 2023, 08:01:00 PMLovely to see Trepol Bay, again. A very nice bonus to the story.

Very much agreed
  stay safe regards Derek

Part Eleven

Jimmy arrived at the distillery in good time, making his way directly to reception where he introduced himself to Mary, the receptionist.

Mary was, of course, expecting the visitor and immediately rang through to Sir William's office to report Jimmy's arrival.

"Bill will be down to meet you in about ten minutes" said Mary, smiling radiantly, "Please make yourself comfortable whilst you are waiting".

Jimmy sat down in one of two big leather armchairs. As he relaxed he noticed what looked like a boxed crate of whisky marked 'Urgent – Poppysire – Crown Hotel'. 
Where on earth is Poppyshire thought Jimmy. That's three consignments I've seen for delivery now. Two to places I don't know and the other to somewhere in Scotland.

Almost immediately Sir William walked in with outstretched hand to welcome Jimmy.

Part Twelve


Young PC Bob Peel has an excellent vantage point inside the booking office at Silliness station, which enables him, over a cup of tea made by Shirley, the booking clerkess, to watch, unobserved, the persons joining and leaving trains.  Not that there are many trains nowadays and those that remain have few passengers.  Like many others, he has no idea why BR closed the busier Port Poppy station on the line to Sillybury.  Not only that, they closed the whole line as well.  As for the goods-only branch line from Harbour Junction to Port Poppy harbour, it sees little traffic and rumour has it the main reason it remains open is due to a request from the Admiralty, which uses it for occasional Royal Navy deployments to the island of Sonmel.

The single-carriage afternoon train from Tableford arrived in the station, propelled by its locomotive the short distance from Harbour Junction.  PC Peel knew that this sort of thing was unusual, but he had been told something similar also occurred in faraway Inverness.

Only a handful of passengers left the train and PC Peel recognised them all, apart from a very large middle-aged man wearing a mackintosh and a trilby, and carrying a suitcase in each hand.  The man had a military bearing and a bristling but well-trimmed moustache.  He also had the most enormous feet.  "Fine feet for the Force," muttered PC Peel.

"What did you say, Tanner?" asked Shirley.

"Sorry, Shirley, I was just remarking on that gentleman's feet," said PC Peel.

Accompanying the man was a small bird-like woman of a similar age, presumably his wife, but PC Peel was not one to take things for granted.

As the locomotive was at the front of the train, the departure of the return working to Tableford was only a few minutes after the train's arrival.

"Only three passengers for that one," said Shirley.

"That's right, Shirley; thanks for the tea," said PC Peel, "I'll see you for the evening train.


(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/6222-120923093812.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135554)


PC Peel walked down the ramp from the station, turned right below the 'Bridge to Nowhere' and, as he walked slowly towards the centre of the little town, he saw what he expected to see – the couple entering The Crown hotel.  "Well done, my lad," said PC Peel to himself, "You ought to be in the CID!"

As the couple entered The Crown, they received a warm welcome from a thirty-something man who was behind the reception desk.  "Mr and Mrs Murdoch?" enquired the man.

"Aye, that's us," said the large man, who was now looming above the desk.

"Welcome to The Crown and to Port Poppy," said the young man.  "My name is Graham Hill and I own the hotel.  I will do all I can to ensure you enjoy your stay.  If you would be kind enough to sign the register, I'll then show you to your room."

Graham watched as Mr Murdoch wrote, in remarkably small, neat handwriting for such a large man: 'Mrs and Mrs A Murdoch, The Police Station, Auchenshoogle.'

"Thank you very much," said Graham, "You are in a room overlooking the harbour as you requested when you made your reservation – Room One.  Dinner is served at seven and you will be made very welcome in the bar before then.  I'm rather proud of our range of whiskies."

"You'll enjoy that, Sandy," said Mrs Murdoch, her eyes twinkling with a smile.

"Aye, Ah wull that, Doris," said Sandy, "Ah wull that."

Graham smiled, after all he was running a business; a Scottish policeman who appeared to enjoy whisky was likely to be a good type of guest and Mrs Murdoch seemed a good sort.  "Let me show you to your room," he said, "And, please allow me to take one of your suitcases."

"Thank ye," said Sandy.

Graham picked up the nearest case and was surprised at how heavy it was; Mr Murdoch had carried both is with ease.  But, then again, he was a very big man.

Sandy and Doris chatted happily during their pre-dinner drinks in the bar and then thoroughly enjoyed dinner, served by a cheerful young waitress.  As they were having coffee, Graham appeared by their table, wearing his chef's whites, and politely enquired if they had enjoyed dinner.

"It was braw, thank ye," replied Sandy.

"Is this your first time in Port Poppy?" asked Graham.

"It's mine," said Doris, "But my husband spent some time here with the Royal Navy during the War."

"Aye, an' Ah wis billeted richt here in your hotel," said Sandy.  "And Ah must congratulate ye oan on having improved it greatly."

"Thank you very much," said Graham, happily.

"I think we'll jist hae anither wee dram and then retire," said Sandy, "It's been a lang day."

Graham pulled Doris' chair back for her and wished the pleasant couple a good evening.

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
 Now that's an interesting turn in the story  :thumbsup:
  thanks John.
  stay safe regards Derek

Quote from: cornish yorkie on September 12, 2023, 11:21:38 AM:hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
 Now that's an interesting turn in the story  :thumbsup:
  thanks John.
  stay safe regards Derek

Indeed it is.

Part Thirteen

First, another photograph of Trepol Bay where Jimmy changed trains on his way to St Agnes
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-130923083440.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135574)


"Jimmy, I'm so pleased that you've come over this afternoon. Lets's go up to my office but first I have a message for you from my darling wife Annie. She's booked one of the best rooms at The Cedars Hotel in Aggie for you. Breakfast and dinner is included of course as are any drinks. The room is booked for ten nights from this evening".

Jimmy really didn't know what to say. All sorts of thoughts rushed through his head in a flash. 'Do I want to become involved here? If he offers me a job should I take it? Am I ready to settle down? What if my past catches up with me? Do the Glasgow police know I'm in Cornwall? Will DI McDougall come after me or is he even interested?'

Sir William led the way up a narrow stairway into a sparse but functional office.
"Rosemary, coffee for the two of us if you please", he called out to his secretary.

"Now, Jimmy lad, let me get straight to the point. I, together with Ross, Tom and William have been most impressed with your whisky knowledge and above all your supreme palate. You would be a great asset to our team here particularly as we intend, as you know, to start to expand the business.
However there is a potential problem which I need to air first. I received a telephone call late last evening from my great friend and golfing companion, Tom Barlow who is the Assistant Chief Constable of the Cornish Police Force. He rang me because the force has received information from Glasgow police about a young man that they would like to track down and talk to. Apparently this young man has travelled South recently. The reason that Tom rang me is that the lad is known to have an interest in whisky so wanted to warn me in case he made contact. The lad must be of some interest to the Scottish force as they are sending an experienced officer, a certain Sandy Murdoch, down this way to try to track him down".

Jimmy's heart missed several beats....he daren't give anything away at this point but he was going to have to buy himself a few seconds of thinking time here without looking in any way guilty or concerned. Did Sir William have concerns that Jimmy could be the lad in question? He'd certainly be stupid not to have made such an assumption. Had he left that final sentence just hanging in the air to gauge Jimmy's response?

Without hesitation or stutter and with a poker face Jimmy's response was, "I think I know who that might be. I know someone who possibly fits the description but, just in case you are worried, it's not me"

Always a great pleasure to see the lovely Trepol Bay. (I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Part Fourteen

Sandy Murdoch awoke about seven the next morning, to the unmistakable noise of goods train buffers clanging and then the sound of a diesel's horn and the throbbing of its engine.  Sandy got up, washed, shaved and dressed.  As he was knotting his tie, Doris awoke.

"It's a gran' morning, Hen; Ah'l jist tak a wee daunder aroon the herbour whilst ye get ready.  Nae rush min', we asked fur oor breakfast at hauf-past-eight."

"Fine, Sandy," said Doris, happily contemplating another half-hour in bed.  "But be careful."

"Ah wull, Hen, Ah wull," said Sandy and left the room, walked down the stairs and out of the hotel into a fine Poppyshire morning.

The scene at the harbour looked, to Sandy, familiar and different at the same time.  After all, it was nineteen years since he had been here.  It was certainly a lot quieter now.  He strolled round the harbour, enjoying looking at the fishing boats and wondering if he might be able to go out in one during his fairly short stay in Port Poppy.


(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/6222-120923111030.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135556)


Presently, he found himself at the goods siding where a couple of men were unloading a wooden crate from a goods van.  From their efforts, he assumed it was heavy.  Sandy smiled when he noticed that a young, uniformed, police constable was observing proceedings closely.  Sandy had a silent chuckle to himself at the constable's helmet and thought how lucky Scottish policemen were not to have to wear such a thing.

"Good morning PC Murdoch!" said the police constable.  "I'm Bob Peel – welcome to Port Poppy."

Sandy looked quizzically at PC Peel who said, "I always check the hotel registers on my beat, I'm sure you do as well."

"Aye, Ah dae that richt enough ;  Ah dae that.  Ah'm Sandy and my wife is Doris."

The two policemen were soon engrossed in friendly conversation and watched as the two men loaded the crate on to a barrow.

"Right lads," said PC Peel, "I'll walk over to The Crown with you.  I know Mr Hill is waiting for this."

Sandy walked over towards The Crown with PC Peel who asked, "Are you staying long in Port Poppy, Sandy?"

"Naw, Mon, jist fower nichts, then we gae oan doon tae Cornwall fur a wee while.  Ah jist wanted tae come back as Ah wis here during the War."

"I hope you enjoy yourselves," said Pc Peel and the two men parted amiably, Sandy going in the front door of The Crown and PC Peel accompanying the two men with their barrow round to the back. 
           
Sandy and Doris had an enjoyable day wandering round Port Poppy and discovered that trains were running on the preserved steam railway the following day.  Sandy thought it would be nice to take Doris to Sillybury; he remembered it as a douce place beside the sea.

Walking into the bar for a drink before dinner, Sandy saw PC Peel, clearly off duty, sitting at the bar with the remains of a half-pint of beer.  Sandy introduced him to Doris and invited him to join them at their table in the corner.  No sooner had they sat at the table than the smart young barman walked up to the table with three glasses, a jug of water and a bottle.

"Good evening, Mr and Mrs Murdoch," he said, "Mr Hill would like you to have some of this with his compliments.  And he would like you to have some too, Tanner, to thank you for ensuring it was all safely delivered this morning."
   
At that he poured a generous measure into each glass and placed the jug on the table. Sandy picked up his glass and swirled the contents around then took an appreciative sniff.  "Slainte!"

PC Peel said, "Good health," and Doris smiled and nodded.

"That's a richt braw dram," said Sandy.  "But, if ye dinnae min' me askin', whit's this aboot 'Tanner'?"

"Not at all," replied PC Peel.  "My father was called Bob as well – he was the policeman over at Poppingham before the War – and, somehow or other, 'Little Bob', as I was known at first, sort of became 'Tanner'.

The barman replenished their glasses and, at Sandy's invitation, Tanner joined he and Doris for a most agreeable dinner.

After dinner, Graham Hill came to the table to ask if they had enjoyed their meal.

"Fair braw," said Sandy, "As wis that wee dram ye so kindly gaid us.  Nane o' us kent whit it wis, but it wis pure nectar."

"Cornish whisky," said Graham with a slightly smug smile.  "Good friends of mine have a distillery down there."

"Help ma boab!" exclaimed Sandy.  "Cornish whisky... an' we're gaun doon tae Cornwall later in the week!"

Doris smiled, with a twinkle in her kind eyes.

Quote from: Chris in Prague on September 14, 2023, 05:50:12 AM(I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Why were you wearing bright yellow when you were doing the painting?
(Sorry  :) )

Quote from: dannyboy on September 14, 2023, 11:44:33 AM

Quote from: Chris in Prague on September 14, 2023, 05:50:12 AM(I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Why were you wearing bright yellow when you were doing the painting?
(Sorry  :) )

Yes, but bright yellow what?

Quote from: Nbodger on September 14, 2023, 02:20:29 PM

Quote from: dannyboy on September 14, 2023, 11:44:33 AM

Quote from: Chris in Prague on September 14, 2023, 05:50:12 AM(I remember handpainting the fishermen wearing bright yellow.)

Why were you wearing bright yellow when you were doing the painting?
(Sorry  :) )

Yes, but bright yellow what?

Fishermen's waterproofs.

Part Fifteen

First, another photo of Trepol Bay. This time in black and white.
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-140923180841.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135623)

Two days earlier

Glasgow -The Hog's Head Public House in the city centre

Daniel Brodie, a young lad from Belfast with wild, unkempt fair hair was sitting in the saloon bar at the Hog's Head enjoying a drink  with his girlfriend Marie.
It was coming up to four o'clock in the afternoon, the bar was quiet with only a couple of other customers, both regulars, propping up the bar.

Suddenly the bar doors swung open. Two  burly middle aged men burst in and approached Daniel and Marie looking as though they meant business.
"You know why we're here Danny boy. We'd suggest that you get out of Glasgow now if you know what's good for you and take that pretty maid there with you".

Daniel knew instantly what the two men wanted. They wanted him not only out of Glasgow but out of Scotland.

Daniel had arrived in Glasgow three months ago from Ireland. He was pretty much penniless and with no real idea why he had chosen to travel to Glasgow.
He arrived with nowhere to stay but met a couple of young men of about his own age in a pub. The three men got talking with Daniel eventually being offered a place to stay in return for the odd favour.

The rest was, of course, history.
Daniel became involved with stealing whisky casks whilst they  were being transported, usually by rail, between some of the small single malt distilleries and the giant whisky blending warehouses.
It was, admittedly, only the odd barrel here and there but very soon a rival and much bigger, better organised gang got to hear about it and were not happy,

Daniel instantly realised that the  two men now standing, threateningly in front of him, had burst into the Hog's Head must be from the rival gang.
"The police are on to you, we've made sure of that" grunted the slightly taller of the two men, "They know that you have been helping yourself to the odd barrel of whisky. We've got photos to prove it and we've handed them over to the coppers. If I were you I'd get out of here and out of Scotland  as soon as you can".

The shorter of the two men gave Daniel a sharp punch in the ribs then picked up his pint glass and downed the half pint or so remaining.

Daniel wan't about to argue.. There was no way he'd fight back. "Come on Marie, time for us to go".

That evening, Daniel and Marie found themselves at Glasgow Central railway station.
They had very little money, no  food and no tickets.

Super photo Martin

Another very unexpected development.

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
  Many thanks Martin another unexpected twist, is Jimmy safe?
  stay safe regards Derek

Quote from: cornish yorkie on September 14, 2023, 07:20:14 PM:hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
  Many thanks Martin another unexpected twist, is Jimmy safe?
  stay safe regards Derek

You'll have to wait and see Derek.

Interesting developments.  :hmmm:

And I would appreciate either subtitles or simultaneous translations for Mr Murdoch.  :)

Part Sixteen


The two policemen, one at the beginning of his career and one nearing the end, became firm friends and, to Sandy's delight, Tanner arranged with a friendly fisherman for the two of them to go out on a boat in two days' time, which would be Sandy and Doris' last full day in Port Poppy.

However, the next day, Doris and Sandy went to Sillybury on the preserved steam train and had a lovely time in that salubrious small seaside resort.  Doris told me later that they had ice cream and Sandy had even gone paddling in the sea, "Just like a big wean!"


(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/6222-150923085025.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135629)

Sandy and Doris' train leaves Port Poppy for Sillybury.  They eschewed the LMS four-wheeler for the comfort of the GWR bogie carriage.  '3F' 0-6-0T No. 7277 does the honours.  The whole train is by Graham Farish - ProperlyPoole of course.


After dinner that evening, Sandy congratulated Graham on his range of whiskies, especially the Cornish one, and asked casually if Graham had seen any young men, perhaps looking for work behind the bar.

"No," said Graham, "All our staff here are all local and they and their families are known to me."

"And richt grand they are tae," said Sandy, subtly closing that part of the conversation.

The following day, Doris had a stroll round Port Poppy, enjoying some shopping and, after luncheon in The Crown, sat outside in the sunshine and read the book she had bought in 'Maudie's' - Love on a Branch Line.

PC Peel had arranged with his serjeant to have a day off to join PC Murdoch out on the fishing boat.  The two men had a thoroughly enjoyable time, fishing, gradually emptying Sandy's voluminous hip-flask and exchanging anecdotes about their time in the police, Sandy, obviously, having many more.

Sandy told Tanner a sad story about a young man from the Gorbals, "By the name o' Jimmy Johnstone, that Ah tried a fair wheen o' times tae help keep oot o' bother wae the polis.  But that wee laddie jist didnae want tae be helpit and the last Ah kent, the laddie had gone doon Sooth somewhere.  He wis last seen getting' oan 'The Pullman' at St Enoch's."

As he told this story, Sandy looked closely at Tanner to see if there was a flicker of recognition at the mention of Jimmy's name.  There wasn't, but Tanner said helpfully, "If Jimmy Johnstone turns up in Port Poppy, I'll get in touch with you in Auchenshoogle immediately, Sandy."

"Thank ye; thank ye," replied Sandy.  "See yon headland ower there, that's Silliness is it no?"

"Yes, Sandy, it's quite a tourist attraction and when the second railway came to Port Poppy, they named the station after it."

Doris, Sandy and Tanner had a delicious dinner that evening.  Graham having cooked expertly the plaice that the chaps caught earlier in the day.  A fair few libations were had before their jolly evening came to an end.

The next morning, PC Peel met them at the The Crown and walked with them to the station, carrying one of the suitcases.  At the station, he gladly put the suitcase down and introduced Doris and Sandy to Shirley, the booking clerkess, from whom Sandy purchased two first class singles to Trepol Bay.  This pleased Shirley greatly, as it almost doubled her takings for the week.

The train from Tableford arrived in the platform, a diesel railcar this time, and Sandy and Doris climbed aboard.  Tanner helped Sandy with the suitcases and fond farewells were said.  All too soon there was on honk on the train's horn and it made its way cautiously out of Silliness station, over the girder bridge and on towards Harbour Junction and, eventually, Tableford.

Tanner watched it depart and thought how fortunate he had been to meet Sandy and Doris, although he had a niggling doubt in his head that Sandy had not been completely open with him.  Could it be more than simply a holiday?  He unbuttoned his top-left tunic pocket, took out his notebook at looked at the name he had written in it after he and Sandy had returned from fishing - 'Jimmy Johnstone'.

"I'll keep a sharp look out for young Mr Johnstone," said Tanner to himself and then went into the booking office for a cup of tea with Shirley.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-160923075946.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135665)
I'm "up country" for a few days but will try to keep the story going in short episodes if I can.

Part Seventeen

Sir William relaxed back in his leather chair keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Jimmy who managed to retain his poker face over what seemed like minutes of silence although in reality it was probably only a few seconds.

Jimmy didn't know what to think. Should he say something else or should he let the distillery owner speak again.

In the end the silence was broken by Rosemary, Sir William's secretary, gently knocking the door before entering with a tray of steaming coffee and biscuits.

"Thank you Rosemary. Now Jimmy lad, I'm sorry I had to mention that business. I was pretty sure that you aren't involved but I'm sure that you can understand my concerns"

Inwardly Jimmy relaxed but, of course, he didn't know whether the police had some interest in him or perhaps there was someone else. He had heard rumours of a laddie called Daniel from Ireland who had become involved with stealing whisky up in the Glasgow area but that was all he knew.
"Of course Sir William, I fully understand. You are quite right to have suspicions but I can assure you that I am only interested in developing my whisky knowledge and perhaps, if I have guessed correctly, helping you out in some way".

"Bill, please" laughed the older man, "You know that I hate formality. And yes, you have guessed correctly. We have all been most impressed with your knowledge, your enthusiasm  and your extraordinary palate. As we said yesterday, we are looking to expand our business and you would be just the man to help us. What do you say?"

Jimmy smiled. What should he say to this proposition?

Meanwhile, some twenty miles away, an ageing T9 4-4-0 steam locomotive wheezed into Wadebridge station. Two rather dishevelled looking young people stepped down onto the platform .
They had no idea where to go but the young man said to his female companion "Let's find a pub. They are always great places for finding things out".

That's a busy goods yard scene and a great story

Thanks, Martin. Always a pleasure to see Trepol Bay. I wish you safe journeys and look forward to more episodes.

Will we get an episode, today, I wonder?

Part Eighteen

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-180923080738.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135723)
That evening as Jimmy relaxed in the bar of the Cedars Hotel in St Agnes.
It was far removed from the dingy little room he had been using in Wadebridge and he was grateful to Annie, Sir William's wife, for organising it but he felt just a little uneasy.

This wasn't what Jimmy Johnstone was used to. He had just finished an evening meal of steak, mushrooms, grilled tomatoes and chips. And very, very nice it was too all washed down with a couple of glasses of wine and he was now enjoying a couple of pints of fine, foaming Cornish ale but it didn't seem right.
Jimmy was more used to cheap sausage and chips or a greasy bacon sandwich in the back streets of Glasgow.

It was time to reflect. He'd just been offered a dream job by Sir William at a salary he could previously only dream of but did he want this complete change of lifestyle? Would he be able to stay on the proverbial straight and narrow?

He had a lot of thinking to do.
And then there was Daniel Brodie to consider. Was he now in Cornwall and would he stir up trouble?

Jimmy sighed, relaxing back into his leather chair in the bar. He had a lot to consider.

A few miles away Daniel Brodie was in the Penny Farthing in Wadebridge with his girlfriend Marie.
They had only been in the pub some twenty minutes but had somehow already fallen into conversation with a large, rough looking chap called Bert.

Later that same evening a train pulled gently into Trepol Bay station.
A rather large man and his small, mouselike wife stepped down onto the platform. Outside in the station yard a taxi was waiting to take them to their hotel.

Fantastic photo

so engrossed with this story, really enjoyable.

Always good to see Trepol Bay.

It's all kicking off! I foresee nothing but trouble.  :goggleeyes:

I do hope that the subtitle machine is working now.

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:

No update?

Apologies for the delay in posting.
I'm still up country and extremely busy. Plus, of course, I had a very enjoyable evening at the football last evening.
I'm travelling home tomorrow but for now here's the latest update.
First though, a photograph :
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-200923173230.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135762)

Part Nineteen

Jimmy Johnstone was enjoying a final pint before bed.
So much had happened today that it was virtually impossible to come to any decisions so he would sleep on it. However, at the back of his mind he had a suspicion that things weren't going to be easy.
Sandy Murdoch's name suddenly sprung into his mind. Jimmy wondered if the big policeman had heard about his move South. News travelled fast around Glasgow and Sandy Murdoch always had his nose close to the ground.

Daniel Brodie, over in the Penny Farthing pub in Wadebridge was in deep conversation with Big Bert and it wasn't long at all before he had agreed to help Bert to obtain some whisky from the warehouses in Tregonning. Daniel had told Beet all about his involvement with stealing barrels of spirit in Scotland which was music to the big man's ears.

At the same time Joe, the taxi driver collecting Sandy Murdoch and his wife Doris had some important news to impart. "I'm so sorry Sir but I've been told by the manager at the Station Hotel here in Trepol Bay that they have somehow double booked and so unfortunately have no room available for you. However he has arranged for you to stay in a suite at their sister hotel The Cedars in St Agnes which is about ten miles away. It's a lovely village close to the sea and a beautiful hotel".

Sandy and Doris were tired after a long journey down from Scotland but were perfectly happy to accept the alternative accommodation.
On the journey the taxi driver was extremely chatty so Sandy took the opportunity to ask if he knew anything about Cornish whisky.
"Oh certainly I do", replied the driver, "In fact the distillery is situated just outside of St Agnes where you are staying. It's run by the Rundle family headed by Sir William and his wife Lady Annabelle. They are a charming couple but hate formality. If you bump into them which you may well do as Sir William is a regular in the bar at The Cedars you'll find him so easy to talk to and by the way they much prefer to be called Bill and Annie".

A few minutes later Sandy and Doris were booking into their hotel just as Jimmy Johnstone was making his way upstairs to his room. As Jimmy looked over his shoulder he was, to say the very least, dumfounded. In fact he couldn't believe his eyes but a second glance confirmed his worst fears.

Meanwhile up in the Crown Hotel, Silliness young PC Bob Peel was enjoying a pint at the bar. He had finished his shift some twenty minutes previously and, it being a warm day, felt he had earned his pint of fine, frothing ale.
Just as he had taken his first sip old Joe McDonald, a local farmer, sidled up to PC Peel. "Just thought you might be interested. I've been offered some cheap whisky by an acquaintance of  mine. Now you know I don't agree with anything illegal so I'm just mentioning it to you so you know. A couple of names were mentioned. I've written those names on a slip of paper but, if anyone asks, I didn't tell you".

PC Peel looked at the slip of dog eared paper. Written on it were the names Jimmy Johnstone and Dan Brodie – Glasgow.
The young PC was mystified. He knew the name Jimmy Johnstone of course. He is the well respected Celtic and Scotland footballer.
Then, a few minutes later, Sandy Murdoch came to mind. "Of course", thought the PC, "Jimmy Johnstone. Sandy mentioned a sad story about him when we were on our fishing trip".

Jimmy Johnstone, for once in his life, didn't know what to do. Of all the people in the world Sandy Murdoch was here in the same hotel.........

It's ok. Martin we love your posts and that's a super photo

Evocative

Quote from: crewearpley40 on September 20, 2023, 05:35:38 PMIt's ok. Martin we love your posts and that's a super photo

Evocative

Seconded! Many thanks, Martin. We appreciate you finding the time even though you're very busy.

Very clever; very clever indeed.

SuperSpiffing picture as well.  I so love these GWR 0-4-2T engines.  And I like 'T9s' as well.

Four of the Mr Collet's 0-4-2T engines survive.  I recommend highly a visit to the Tiverton Museum of Mid-Devon Life (I hope I got that right!) to enjoy the gorgeous pedantry of its name.  The lovely ladies on duty were amazed when Mrs Poppingham and I visited a few years ago.  The idea of people from between the Forth and the Tweed being interested in mid-Devon life fascinated them.  Suffice it to say, No. 1442 was made available for our inspection.  Very detailed, in my case!

I suppose few enthusiasts bother going to see this engine, but I think it is well worth a trip to Tiverton to introduce oneself to her.  Tiverton is a nice town as well.

By the way, I noticed your double reference to Association Football which is, of course, as alien a concept to me as comparative cosmology.  But PC Murdoch is based on a real-life chap... who was a Fifer.  They will be dancing on the streets of Raith tonight!

Thank you for a splendid story.

With all good wishes

John

Are we talking Roath Ravers here  :D  :D

Quote from: port perran on September 20, 2023, 09:04:17 PMAre we talking Roath Ravers here  :D  :D

Yes indeed.  The Kingdom of Fife's finest.  Allegedly!

Their salubrious stadium is close to the former NBR part of the East Coast Route to Aberdeen.  I've seen it from the train many, many times.  Never been inside... fortunately.

Toodle-oo

John

Part Twenty

Next morning Daniel Brodie and Marie were enjoying their Cornish breakfast in the rather scruffy accommodation that was recommended by Big Bert.
Money was in very short supply which meant that Daniel would do literally anything to raise some cash. He and Marie had just about enough money to last perhaps two more days so something had to be done.

Last evening Bert had promised Daniel twenty five pounds if he could get his hands on a barrel of whisky from the St Agnes Distillery warehouse in Tregonning.
Daniel was, of course, well used to handling whisky barrels from his time in Glasgow so agreed to Beet's proposition on the understanding that he be provided with a burly assistant, a pick up truck and a driver.
The "job" was arranged for two days later  leaving plenty of  time for Daniel to visit the warehouse and devise a plan of action.

As far as Bert was concerned, whisky was whisky. He cared not whether Daniel got his hands on a newly laid down cask or one of the rarer vintage whiskies. Bert's idea was simply to bottle the stuff and sell it on.
Daniel, on the other hand, was much better informed. He soon realised that there was much more money to be made than the twenty five pounds promised. He determined to visit the warehouse that very afternoon to see for himself what was in there.

In the Cedars Hotel, Sandy and Doris had enjoyed a most relaxing sleep. They were now in the dining room, seated at the best table next to the huge window offering a panoramic view over Trevaunance Cove.
Sandy had chosen the full Cornish breakfast whilst Doris enjoyed poached eggs on white bread toast.

Jimmy Johnstone, of course, had taken the precaution of taking breakfast as soon as the dining room opened at seven o'clock. He was long gone by the time that Sandy and Doris took their seats sometime after eight thirty.

"Let's take a train down to St Ives today love", said Sandy, "It's beautiful down there and I have two days to myself before I do any police work".

Finishing their breakfast Doris suggested they take their time before catching a mid morning train to St Ives giving Sandy time to peruse the railway timetable.
He eventually settled on the 10-35 service to St Erth where they would change trains at 11-10 for the St Ives train.

Eventually the couple were aboard their train which departed St Agnes station right time.
As the ex Great Western small prarie tank pulled gently away from the platform Sandy caught sight of a very familiar figure sitting on a wooden bench on the opposite platform.
"It can't be", he said turning to his wife, "I can't believe my eyes. That man on the platform over there, it's Jimmy Johnstone".

Jimmy had decided to catch a train himself but to Newquay from where he would take a clifftop walk along the North Cornish coast. He did his best thinking whilst walking and he had some big decisions to make.

At 11-50 Jimmy's train departed. Jimmy was completely unaware that Sandy Murdoch had spotted him.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-210923080916.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135775)
The train that willtake Sandy and Doris as far as St Erth approaches St Agnes station across the level crossing.

Another lovely story and great photo whilst eating my breakfast

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:
  Many thanks Martin, it's getting more and more intriguing  :thumbsup:
   stay safe regards Derek

Great stuff Martin. Very pleased to see that the simultaneous translation machine is up and working well.  :thumbsup:  :D

Part Twenty One
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-220923095045.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135780)

For a lad from the Gorbals in Glasgow used to high rise tenement blocks, vandalised houses and partly boarded up shops the North Cornish coastline was, to Jimmy, just breathtaking.
He was enjoying the solitude as he walked East from Newquay. People strolling in the opposite direction all passed the time of day and the Autumnal sun was just warm enough without being overbearingly hot.

Jimmy was, in a way,  one  of the lucky ones living in the Gorbals, accepted by his fellow Glaswegians and able to walk into and drink in the pubs and clubs without comment. He was actually a fairly popular lad.
However, this popularity came at a price. Jimmy had been led astray virtually since he started school, not that he attended that often. His was a life of gangs, petty crime, drinking and intimidation of those who didn't fit in.
As he grew into his later teenage years Jimmy had become involved in more organised crime which brought him to the attention of the local police and a certain Sandy Murdoch in particular.

Even when he was working, assisting his Uncle Tom  at the Aichentoshan distillery, Jimmy was still tempted to stray into the darker side of life if and when the opportunity presented itself.

It was the lad's remarkable palate, allowing him to recognise and comment upon the various whiskies that abounded in Scotland which set him apart from others and could, perhaps, lead to his salvation.

Sandy Murdoch was well aware of young Jimmy Johnstone but began to recognise that perhaps the young laddie could be persuaded to follow the straight and narrow if given the opportunity.
Sandy was great friends with Walter McTavish the general manager at the Auchentoshan distillery and, over a game of golf one afternoon, the subject of Jimmy Johnstone came up.
Sandy was persuaded by his golfing partner that Jimmy was worth a second chance. He was highly regarded at the distillery.

Sandy, of course, also had his job to consider. Jimmy was a wanted man whom he had been tracking for several months. He had been assigned to track him as an under cover officer wherever Jimmy went. Hence Sandy found himself in Cornwall, but what should he do about the situation in which he found himself?

Jimmy continued to ramble, stopping every now and again to take in the view. Before long he had been walking for some two hours, finding himself at Watergate Bay.

Jimmy had come to a decision. He would enjoy a pint or two at a local hotel before retracing his steps.
With any luck he could be back at St Agnes in time to pop over to the distillery for a chat with Sir William.
It was, Jimmy felt, only fair to tell the distillery owner face to face.

Meanwhile, up in Silliness PC Peel had been doing a bit of investigation into the claims of the availability of illicit whisky made by Joe McDonald.
It seemed, from what Bob Peel had discovered that the whisky had originated from Daniel Brodie who had helped himself to several cases of Stratchclyde 10 year old. It seems that Daniel, in his hurry to make a few pounds, had not bothered to re-bottle the whisky and had left the batch numbers on the cases.
It was this slip up which led PC Peel to the name Daniel Brodie. He could make no connection however to Jimmy Johnstone as far as this particular incident was concerned.

PC Peel made a call to Glasgow police station who gave him a contact number for the Cedars Hotel in St Agnes, Cornwall.

Back in Cornwall Daniel Brodie had decided to visit the Tregonning warehouse fir himself the next afternoon. He wanted to be absolutely sure he knew what he was getting himself into and not leave it  entirely in the hands of Big Bert and his friends whom he didn't entirely trust.

Later that evening Sandy and Doris, having enjoyed a lovely day out in St Ives, returned to their hotel where they planned an early evening meal to round off the day.
The couple made their way to reception to collect their room key to be met with a smiling assistant "I have a message for you Sir from a PC Peel in a place called Silliness. I've never heard of it myself but the call sounded genuine"
"Ah, yes, PC Peel", replied Sandy, "I know him well. Thank you"

Sandy studied the sheet of paper with the message from the young constable.

Gosh, every episode ends with a cliffhanger  :)



Ed

Quote from: Ed on September 22, 2023, 10:27:09 AMGosh, every episode ends with a cliffhanger  :)

Ruddy annoying ain't it?  ;)
(But keep them coming Martin).

Part Twenty Two

Later that evening Sandy and Doris sat down for their evening meal.
Sandy had chosen pan fried local prawns served with fresh samphire as a starter followed by his favourite rump steak with french fries whilst Doris chose leek and potato soup and braised lamb shank.
Whilst sipping a glass of chilled Blue Nun wine  and waiting for their starters Doris looked over to Sandy, "What did PC Peel say in his message? I rather liked that young chappie when we met him up in Silliness".
"Oh, he was just mentioning a case I've been working on. It concerns young Jimmy Johnstone, the reason we are down here in Cornwall, and another hoodlum called Daniel Brodie".
Sandy took another sip of his wine, "I've been meaning to talk to you about Jimmy Johnstone my love. I'd like your opinion as a probation officer. I know you only did the job for a few years a while back but I know you have some considerable experience and, of course, a very caring nature".

Sandy continued "Jimmy grew up in the Gorbals as the youngest child of five, two girls and three boys.  Dad has been out of work for years and has a drink problem whilst Mum has never really been fit to look after children. Hence Jimmy has drifted into a life of petty crime, drinking and so on. He has, however, demonstrated a quite remarkable talent for whisky tasting which has been noted by at least two distillery managers. It is my belief that, given a little encouragement he could turn his talent into a lucrative career".

Doris sighed, sitting  back in her chair, "It's a story I heard so often when I was working but you sound, if I'm correct, as if you really want to help this lad?"

"I'd certainly like to give it a try if it is at all possible Doris".

With that the starters were served to the appreciative couple who didn't notice the tall, slightly portly and , elegantly dressed middle aged man walk into the far side of the restaurant with a much younger man dressed in a smart but much more casual way.
The two sat down at a table with the younger man having his back to Doris and Sandy.

"So Jimmy", said the older man after taking a sip from his pint glass, "You say you have something to tell me and that you have spent the entire day thinking about it. Is it something to do with the proposition I put to you yesterday?"

"It certainly is Bill", Jimmy was still struggling with Bill rather than Sir William. "You see it has been extremely difficult for me. Cornwall is so very different to Glasgow and would take a lot of getting used to. I honestly don't know if I could make the change and do myself justice but....."

At that precise moment Jimmy looked up, mouth open, to see Sandy Murdoch standing at the table.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-220923135850.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135785)
The view from Doris and Sandy's table at The Cedars hotel

Quote from: Ed on September 22, 2023, 10:27:09 AMGosh, every episode ends with a cliffhanger  :)

Ed

And another one  ;)

Mind you that's a lovely view

Quote from: Nbodger on September 22, 2023, 02:36:22 PM

Quote from: Ed on September 22, 2023, 10:27:09 AMGosh, every episode ends with a cliffhanger  :)

Ed

And another one  ;)

I can't see anyone hanging off those cliffs in the photograph  :)

Quote from: port perran on September 22, 2023, 02:55:33 PMI can't see anyone hanging off those cliffs in the photograph  :)

That's because their muscles gave out waiting for the next part!!!  ;)

Part Twenty Three

First a photograph of Trepol Bay station.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-220923162025.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135792)

Sandy extended an arm to Jimmy who, trying to appear calm, took it in his stride returning  a firm handshake.

"I'm sorry to bother you two gentlemen" said Sandy, "My wife and I are between starter and main course but I would like a brief chat with young Jimmy here. Maybe it would be convenient to meet in the bar, perhaps when we have all eaten. It won't take long and it's nothing at all to worry about. By the way, I'm Sandy Murdoch from Police Scotland. I vaguely know young Jimmy here, who I know has moved down here from Glasgow. My very  good friend Walter McTavish from the Auchentoshan distillery speaks extremely well of him".

Sandy had taken a wild guess that the man sitting opposite Jimmy was something to do with the St Agnes distillery. He was to be proved right by what came next.
"Good old Walter I know him very well. I'm Bill Rundle owner of the whisky distillery just up the road. Walter is quite correct in speaking so highly of young  Jimmy.He has a truly remarkable palate and more importantly a huge potential in the whisky world. So much so that yesterday I offered him a position of some importance with us. I'm just waiting to hear his reply".

Jimmy relaxed, visibly, a point not missed by Sandy's experienced eye, but he still didn't have any idea what was coming next.
What on earth did Sandy Murdoch want with him and was it trouble?

"We'll meet in the bar at nine", pronounced Sir William glancing at his expensive looking watch, "I'll treat you to one of our extra special whiskies that they keep hidden away under the bar here for special occasions. Now, you and your wife enjoy the rest of your meal in peace. You can tell us what this is all about later".

"Thank you" , replied Sandy, "I'll look forward to that whisky and Jimmy, it really is nothing to worry about. I just want a snippet of information from you. Now, I'll leave you to relay your decision to Mr Rundle. I hope it's good news that you are about to give him".

 :hellosign: :greatpicturessign:
   Gosh Martin many thanks a superb tale that's got everyone waiting for the next chapter (including me)  :thumbsup:
 stay safe regards Derek

Jimmy's decision will be revealed tomorrow so stay tuned.

Lovely photo I must say

Quote from: port perran on September 22, 2023, 08:42:57 PMJimmy's decision will be revealed tomorrow so stay tuned.

Stop messing about with these cliff hangers!  >:D
We need to know what the decision is.
We set sail for foreign parts tomorrow, hope I can get a satellite signal.  :-\

So.....here's the long awaited next instalment with only one, very small, cliffhanger at the end.
Hopefully it's in time for @keithbythe sea to read before he embarks on his travels.
Jimmy's decision is revealed at long last.
I wonder if it is as expected or does it come as a surprise?

First though, a photo of the long lost Port Perran layout :

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-230923114658.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135817)

Part Twenty Four

So it was that all three men met in the bar at precisely 9-00pm.
Doris elected to sit in the far corner with a gin and orange and the latest copy of Women's Own magazine.

Sir William was beaming, "It's great news Sandy, young Jimmy here has decided to join us at  the St  Agnes Distillery as Brand Manager. The idea being that he promotes our whiskies, and in time possibly other spirits, in Cornwall, England, the UK in general including of course Bonnie Scotland and, thinking longer term, across the globe. He  will be initially on a six month contract and if he conducts himself well the post will be made permanent and will attract a significant salary increase. So the onus is very much on Jimmy and that brings me onto my next point".

Sandy looked relieved, extending his hand to the young lad who looked somewhat embarrassed, "Well done Jimmy lad, I am so pleased for you. Now, I have something to ask of you but don't worry, it won't affect your prospects in any way. First though I'll let Sir awilliam, sorry Bill, continue".

"Before I do", said Bill, "Let's crack open a bottle of whisky". He nodded to Brenda the barmaid who produced an old looking bottle and three glasses from under the bar.
"I want you both to try this. It"s a 40 year old example of a single malt from the now defunct Ladyburn distillery in Girvan. It's a fine example of a Lowland malt, light, refreshing and with a grassy sweetness. The age has matured the dram beautifully".

All three nosed the drink before taking a sip.
Jimmy was the first to comment, "What a truly magnificent whisky. So light but full of character. I can detect the essence of freshly cut grass, honeysuckle in flower and just a hint of roasted almonds. This is definitely one of the best whiskies, if not the best, that I've sampled".

"Slainte", responded Bill, " And that is one of the reasons we've invited Jimmy to join us. He has such an exquisite palate, as we keep saying, and his whisky experience is developing all of the time".

Bill took another sip, "Now then Sandy, let me fill you in on what Jimmy has said to me and how we see him developing.   First off, it was an extremely difficult decision for him. As you know, he's used to a, shall we say, less civilised lifestyle in Glasgow and he's openly stated that the transition will be pretty difficult. Getting used to a working day will prove to be a challenge and let me say straight off that this will be no nine to five, Monday to Friday job. That's why we're offering an initial salary of two thousand five hundred pounds per year rising to three thousand two hundred and fifty if he successfully completes the three month probation period".

Sandy looked astounded, "Jimmy lad that's mighty good money for a lad from the Gorbals"

"It certainly is" continued Bill, "In addition we'll be paying for the lad to learn to drive and providing a car once he passes his test. We're also providing a small flat for him in or around St Agnes".

Jimmy turned red with embarrassment. Inwardly he was wondering if he could deliver on what would be a huge challenge.

"I won't bore you with the details of the job", said Bill taking another sip, "Suffice to say that we are looking  to expand and extend our range and we see Jimmy as the man to help achieve that. He has filled me in fully on his past life and misdemeanours and  I'm going to  overlook that, trust him and help him rise, hopefully, to the very top, eventually, of his profession. We realise that adapting to the change of lifestyle will be difficult and to that end we'll be looking to provide some sort of professional lifeskills development if we can find the right person".

Sandy thought for just a moment before butting in, "I may be able to help there, or rather my wife Doris might.  I've been thinking over several weeks that Jimmy is the sort of lad who needs encouragement and guidance rather than spend his life in and out of prison. My wife Doris over there used to be a probation officer and has plenty of experience of this sort of thing. She would, I'm sure, be happy to help out if she can".

"Certainly, certainly" said Bill, "Perhaps we can talk to your good lady a bit later but first, you said you had something to ask my new employee here".

"Yes indeed" continued Sandy turning to Jimmy, "Like Bill here I'm happy to overlook your past but am trusting you to stay on the straight and narrow. Very quickly though, do you know a wee laddie called Daniel Brodie and more importantly, do you know where he is right now?"

Jimmy's face reddened, ever so slightly, which Sandy spotted straight away before Jimmy cleared his throat and began his reply............

Ah! Port Perran of very fond memory and still, a cliffhanger! 8-)

My congratulations to Jimmy. It has been a while coming - and my finger ends can testify to that - but worth waiting for. I shall have a drop of the 'Auchentoshan' that was recommended to me, later tonight, in celebration.  :thumbsup:

Well done Jimmy, lad! Now the hard work begins. Fabulous salary for the early sixties.

Thank you Martin, just in time!  :beers:

Thank you for another terrific chapter, Martin.

And for that splendid picture of Port Perran.  What a magnificent layout that was.  However, rather like Jimmy, Port Perran has a skeleton in the cupboard as it was a massive influence on the development of my Table-Top Railway project.  Without Port Perran, there would be no Poppingham, or, at least no Poppingham as we know it!

Thanks again and all good wishes.

John

Uh oh.
Been feeling a bit under the weather these last few days and this is why.
Just what I don't need :
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-240923121408.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135846)
Faint but it does show

Hopefully it is just a little dose Martin and you are soon back to normal. We will wait, (a bit  ;) ), for the next instalment.  ;D

Very sorry to read that, Martin. That's very probably what I had a few days ago. If so, it should be past in a couple of days. I wish you a full return to health very soon.

 :hellosign:
    So sorry Martin, here`s hoping your are back to full health very soon
      stay safe regards Derek.

Hello Martin,

Hopefully your dose of Covid will be short lived.

I was impressed with your last picture of Port Perran and have been trying to find a layout plan or aerial photo of the whole layout, but I don't seem to be able to find one. Can you give me a clue as to where I can find one, please?
Cheers
Phil

Quote from: PhilD on September 24, 2023, 09:10:14 PMHello Martin,

Hopefully your dose of Covid will be short lived.

I was impressed with your last picture of Port Perran and have been trying to find a layout plan or aerial photo of the whole layout, but I don't seem to be able to find one. Can you give me a clue as to where I can find one, please?
Cheers
Phil

Good Morning Phil
Thank you for your thoughts re Covid. I do feel a bit better this morning so I'm hoping it's short lived.
As for Port Perran, it was a layout built in about 2011 (my first return to model railways for 50 years). The photos posted on this forum were, in those days, inserted using Photobucket who eventually started to charge for the service. At that point the photographs were largely lost to the forum.
I'll have a look back on my old PC to see if I can recover a few. Can't promise I'll still have the photos though I'm afraid.
Cheers
Martin

Thankyou for that Martin, it
 is very kind of you.

Cheers
Phil

Hope you on the mend martin
And can return to modelling

To avoid cluttering up this thread I have just created a new one looking back at Port Perran.
It can be found here :
https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?topic=62238.new#new

Hopefully it'll be of interest to one or two people who might remember the layout.

And thank you everyone for your get well comments re Covid.
I'm feeling a bit better today, in fact VERY much better than Friday & Saturday.
However, I'm still not back to normal and still feeling very wooly headed.
If I can I'll restart the Angels' Share thread tomorrow if my ability to think clearly improves.
Cheers
Martin

I seem to remember there was a beach halt added towards the end of Port Perran?

Apologies for the slight break. My Covid has given me a touch of brain fog which meant writing episodes was difficult. However, I'm starting to feel better, although I'm still testing positive, so it's on with the show as it were.

Part Twenty Five

"Thank you for that information young man" said Sandy as he shook Jimmy's hand firmly.

Jimmy had relayed  a full and truthful account of his previous life, which he had already earlier  recounted to Sir William.

Sandy, of course, learned nothing new about Jimmy's past. After all he had been trailing him for some six months and during that time had started to form the opinion that the young lad was worth trying to save from a life of crime if he possibly could. In a strange sort of way he had become to rather like and respect the young lad.

Sandy was however pleased with the information that Jimmy could give him regarding Daniel Brodie. It seemed that Jimmy was well aware of Daniel's dealings in Scotland and also his involvement in the delivery  of illicit whisky to Silliness.
Jimmy also confirmed Sandy's hunch that Daniel was now most likely in Cornwall and passed on some additional information regarding Big Bert who, Jimmy felt, would have already made contact with the Irishman.

Jimmy had also made Sir William aware of his own dealings with Big Bert and had informed him of the attempted break in at the Tregonning warehouses a few evenings earlier.
Indeed, between them Sir William had agreed that Jimmy's very first task the next morning would be to visit the warehouses to tighten up security with new bolts and locks and, more importantly, to catalogue the huge stocks of whisky stored there.

Sandy thanked Jimmy for his honesty. He had already formulated plans to visit the Penny Farthing in Wadebridge and to 'get to know' Big Bert and Daniel Brodie a little better if he possibly could.

The three men then settled down to enjoy another glass of whisky together. This time it was a St Agnes Distillery TenYear old which everyone agreed was another very  fine dram.
Sir William then asked Sandy to invite his wife over to join the group in order to arrange some mentoring for Jimmy and before long several session had been arranged for the coming five days or so.

Sir William took the opportunity to get to know Sandy and Doris a bit better and also, especially for Doris' benefit outlined Jimmy's responsibilities at the distillery.
"We have big plans at the distillery", he went on to say, "Recently we have been sending samples of our whiskies to several locations in England, Scotland and various parts of the world and all have been received with tremendous enthusiasm. Certainly my great friend Admiral Tregowan was particularly glowing in his praise as was my friend Graham who owns the Crown Hotel in Port Poppy".

At the mention of Graham at the Crown Sandy smiled inwardly.

Sir William continued, "I've also heard from my pal Lord Pugh that a consignment sent to the Island of Sonmel was particularly well received. This is where Jimmy here will fit in so well. He is so very knowledgeable and enthusiastic that I, and my colleagues at the distillery, are confident that he will be able to lead our expansion into markets well away from Cornwall and if he can help us break into the Scottish market as well then he will have excelled himself. So, before I bore you all too much, let us   raise a glass to Jimmy".

Jimmy, of course, was somewhat overwhelmed but seemed very relaxed now that he had come to a firm decision about taking the new job opportunity and getting his past history out into the open.

All too soon it was time for the eventful evening to come to an end. Sandy had his plans for the morning and Jimmy, of course, would be off to visit the Tregonning warehouses.

Back in Wadebridge, Daniel Brodie had decided on an early night. He too had plans for tomorrow and  those plans also involved a trip to Tregonning.

An overall view of Tregonning my 'layout in a case' which will feature fairly heavily in the next episode
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-260923152128.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135891)

Lovely photo Martin


Ad others have said we all love your
Layouts

Glad that you are feeling better now Martin and it is nice to read more of this intriguing story.  :thumbsup:

Glad you are keeping a bit better, Martin.

As for illicit whisky coming to Silliness, the rascals concerned will have to answer to Poppy.  She is particularly determined that everything on the Poppyshire & Sillyshire Railway is above board.  Including the wiring.  Especially the wiring!

Another SuperSpiffing chapter - thank you very much.

All best wishes

John and Poppy

Part Twenty Six

Jimmy woke early in his comfortable room at The Cedars Hotel. He had slept really well but before dropping off had devised an outline  plan in his head to, hopefully,  outwit Daniel Brodie.
Sir William, Jimmy still found it virtually impossible to refer to him as Bill, had mentioned two or three crates of bottled whisky plus at least two casks that were not for sale. The spirit was definitely not up to standard but for some reason had been put to one side rather than being emptied down the drain as would normally happen.
Jimmy decided that if he could find this stock he could use it as 'bait' for Mr.  Brodie.

And so it was, in complete contrast  to the previous morning, Jimmy was able to join Sandy and Doris at their usual breakfast table with the panoramic view out to sea.
 All three tucked into their food heartily whilst discussing, happily, the previous evening's get together.
Interestingly neither man made any reference to their plans for the rest of today.

Eventually, it was, as it turned out, Jimmy who departed first in order to catch the eight thirty train that would eventually get him to Tregonning by around ten.
Sandy had a slightly more leisurely morning in mind. He and Doris would take a gentle stroll down to Trevaunance Cove before catching, unusually for him, a bus, the ten fifty  to Wadebridge.

Daniel Brodie had made an early start. He had borrowed an old, very old, Royal Enfield motorcycle from Big Bert's friend Sid in order to make his way to Tregonning. He needed to locate the whisky warehouse that Bert had told him about.
Bert himself,, who was supposed to be borrowing a pick up truck from another friend,  was due to meet Daniel in the Railway Inn at three that afternoon but Daniel didn't trust him to be on time or to arrive at all for that matter.

In the event, Daniel had arrived at the warehouse, which was remarkably easy to find, by eight thirty that morning. A quick scout around revealed that access would be extremely  easy for a man of his expertise and it appeared, by peering through the rather grubby windows, that there would be easy pickings to be had.
By ten thirty he was back in Wadebridge enjoying a cup of tepid coffee in a rather dingy looking café with Marie.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-260923165410.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135895)
A very busy scene in Tregonning that very morning
Tregonning in a case was my main experiment with Metcalfe kits.

Quote from: dannyboy on September 26, 2023, 03:33:48 PMGlad that you are feeling better now Martin and it is nice to read more of this intriguing story.  :thumbsup:

Seconded! Lord Trevelver, although a devotee of very fine 'Tullibardine' Scottish malt whisky, is a great supporter of all things Cornish and is very partial to the excellent whiskies produced at St. Agnes, too, and has a stock of testing selections in beautiful specially commissioned wooden boxes to give as gifts to especially favoured friends and business partners. Eli is particularly proud of the design for the distillery logo. [A future job for my graphic design student?]

Very neat work martin

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:  :superblayout:
  Many thanks Martin superb story & photos of Tregonning it looks even better in the flesh. :thumbsup:
   stay safe regards Derek

Part Twenty Seven
The Net Closes in on Brodie
First though a photograph depicting the sleepy little village of Tregonning. Who would predict the drama about to unfold just up the hill away, out of view, to the right?
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-270923085743.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135905)

Part Twenty Seven

Sandy arrived in Wadebridge just before mid day after an enjoyable, but thankfully uneventful, bus journey.
He knew nothing at all about the town but he trusted  his 'copper's nose' implicitly.
He needed to find what he would describe as a 'no hopers bar' so he took a leisurely stroll around. It was a quaint, typically Cornish town, with a good mix of shops, small cafes, a few offices and a variety of pubs.
He strolled down Molesworth Street and past The Molesworth Arms but that didn't fit the bill. Walking out of town Sandy passed the Withered Bough Inn near the railway sheds but again it just wasn't right. He then headed back into town he wandered up a side street which contained a row of dingy, granite buildings including a rather tatty pub named The Penny Farthing.
Sandy knew instantly that this was the place.

By now Jimmy had reached Tregonning and wandered up to the distillery's old warehouses having previously purchased some new locks and bolts in the local hardware store. He had also purchased a good quality torch remembering how dark the warehouse had been on his last visit. Fitting of the new locks could wait. First though he had a plan to implement.

Entering the warehouse he soon located the three cases of bottled whisky which luckily were stacked right  next to a pair of wooden casks with large Xs chalked on the sides. This was undoubtedly the poor quality spirit that should have been discarded several years ago.
Jimmy was well used to manhandling whisky casks so carefully manoeuvred the two barrels on their rims to a position near to the entrance. He placed the three cases next to them taking care to remove a single bottle  so that he would recognise it again if necessary. He also used an old rag to remove the X marks on the casks which he replaced with the wording St A 4/59.

Jimmy spent the next forty five minutes or  so having a look around the warehouse before deciding it was time, hopefully, for Brodie to turn up.

Luckily, it was another nice, warm and sunny day allowing Jimmy to find a lovely, sheltered spot behind some bushes just up the lane beyond warehouse. Opening up the pack of ham sandwiches, wrapped in greaseproof paper, that he'd been given by one of the hotel cooks, Jimmy waited.

Back in Wadebridge, Sandy walked confidently into the pub which was empty apart from the rather surly landlord reading a crumpled copy of The Daily Mirror at the bar.
Sandy was well used to dealing with such a situation so came straight to the point, "Good morning Sir, I'm from the council. Nothing to worry about but I'm told I might find a chap called Big Bert in here together with an Irish friend called Brodie".
The landlord barely looked up but his eyes gave away just the hint of recognition once he heard the two names. It was confirmation enough for Sandy despite the landlord snarling "Never 'eard of 'em".

"Ok, thank you for your time sir, I will enquire elsewhere" replied Sandy leaving the pub just as a medium sized Bedford pick up truck drew up opposite driven by a portly looking chap wearing a scruffy, torn shirt. As the truck stopped a younger lad stepped out from behind a building slipping quickly into the passenger seat before the truck set off again.

Sandy's years of experience in studying the activities and psychological traits of criminals told him all he needed to know. The young lad getting into the driver's seat matched the description of Daniel Brodie perfectly.

The question was, where were the pair heading off to?

Sandy had a good idea that they would be up to no good but had no way of following the truck.
That was the case until he had an enormous stroke of good fortune.
Around two hundred yards further along the road the truck pulled into a petrol station, presumably to fill up with fuel. Sandy quickened his pace arriving at the filling station just as the older driver was paying the attendant. Sandy pretended to browse the various cans of oil conveniently displayed on the forecourt. He heard Big Bert say to the attendant, "I gotta get ta Tregonning mate,. I'm pretty sure of th' way but is it right up top of 'ill then left onta SnAusll (St Austell)?".
"That's it" replied the attendant. "It's clearly sign posted about four miles after you join the main road".

That was all Sandy needed to hear. After enquiring as to the best way to reach Tregonning he soon boarded the number 12 bus to St Austell which would, he was assured, drop him outside of the Railway Inn at Tregonning.

Jimmy Johnstone had spent about forty minutes lazing on the grass. He had finished his sandwiches and was thankful for the bush providing just a bit of protection from the blinding sun.
He was just starting to daydream when he heard the distinctive rumble of a truck making it's way up the hill.
There was a convenient lay-by almost exactly opposite the warehouse door and, as Jimmy suspected, the truck pulled in and the two occupants jumped down before looking around then quickly making their way over to the warehouse. Jimmy instantly recognised Big Bert and Daniel Brodie.
In a flash Brodie had the door opened.
Jimmy waited. Would the two men 'take the bait' he wondered.

Part Twenty Eight

The bait is taken - hook, line and sinker

It was coming up to two thirty in the afternoon as the bus pulled up opposite the park in Tregonning
.
As he alighted Sandy remarked to himself how pretty and typically Cornish the village looked.
This was however no time for sightseeing. Sir William had told him about the whisky storage warehouses just up the hill past the pub and his guess was that is where the truck and Daniel Brodie would be heading.

Sandy soon spotted the pub with the road curving away to the left beyond and then up a slight hill. He quickened his step but inevitably slowed just a little as the hill steepened.
Just as he rounded a slight bend he saw the truck parked in a little lay-by opposite a ramshackle building almost completely covered in bracken and ivy.

Sandy paused. What should he do now?
His instinct was to stay put, out of sight, and watch.

He wouldn't be disappointed.

Slightly further up the hill, and unseen to Sandy, Jimmy was also biding his time.

Very soon, the two villains emerged from the warehouse each carrying a case of whisky.
Jimmy smirked. They had indeed 'taken the bait'.

Jimmy had taken the opportunity, whilst in the warehouse earlier, to sample a drop of the whisky in the bottles. It certainly wasn't terrible by any means but nowhere near the standard that one would expect from a distillery with a proven record for quality. It was drinkable but rough around the edges with no real body or finish to speak of. It was rather one dimensional.

Jimmy knew that this wouldn't bother Brodie. He doubted the Irishman could tell a Macallan twenty five year old from a small batch whisky distilled illicitly somewhere deep in the Highlands.

Very soon Brodie re-appeared carrying the final case then the two men could be seen rolling each of the casks in turn out to the waiting truck.
Brodie was well used to handling barrels and in no time at all the truck was loaded.

What would happen next though? Would the two men go back for more, in which case Jimmy would feel obliged to intervene, or would they make do with what they had?

Brodie and Bert had a conversation just in front of the lorry. Jimmy couldn't catch everything that was said but could clearly hear Brodie say, "We'll come back for more tomorrow. For now though you'll need to find somewhere to store the casks. First and foremost  I need to get two of those cases packed up and off on a train. Is Wadebridge the best place to do that?"
Bert nodded. His instinct was to take more whisky but he felt that just maybe Brodie knew best on this occasion.

Jimmy stayed put.

Sandy stayed put.

The truck pulled away up the hill before reversing then gently retracing its path down into the village.

Sandy had seen enough to give him plenty of information to work on. He was in no rush to make any arrests but would bide his time. He emerged slowly out into the road at precisely the same time as Jimmy emerged from behind a largish bush.

"Jimmy lad. What on earth are you doing here?" shouted a surprised Sandy.

Jimmy, of course, explained how his little plan had worked almost to perfection with Sandy nodding in approval. He also explained about the conversation, especially with regard to the two cases.
 "Well done, well done. Top marks for ingenuity. Sir William will be very pleased with you I'm sure. Right now though how can we get back to Wadebridge pronto? I'd like to know where those two casks are being sent to?".

Almost immediately there was the unmistakable sound of a steam engine whistle in the distance. The two men, instantly realising that would be there mode of transport made a dash down the hill arriving at the station just in time to purchase two singles to Wadebridge.

It took over an hour for the train to reach its destination which meant that by the time Jimmy and Sandy arrived the Bedford lorry was, of course, nowhere to be seen but Sandy, his eyes always on the lookout for anything of interest, immediately spotted two crates of whisky wrapped and awaiting despatch at the end of the platform.

The two men strolled towards the crates. The label attached was printed extremely clearly
: To Mr T Cobley, The Neapolitan Hotel, Port Poppy.

"Well, well, well" mused Sandy, "Port Poppy Eh. So young  PC Tanner was right. I must get on the telephone to him right away".

Sandy and Jimmy decided on a celebratory cup of tea at the little coffee shop just up the road before Jimmy headed back to Tregonning to fix the new bolts and locks to the warehouses.
Sandy headed off into Wadebridge. He had a Bedford truck and a couple of casks of whisky to track down if he possibly could.

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-270923130417.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135911)
Jimmy and Sandy's train back to Wadebridge approaches Tregonning.
The whisky warehouse is a little further up the hill past the AA box

And one believed they were all peaceful and law abiding citizens in Poppyshire, seems not.

Now is that Poppy one of the gang leaders  :hmmm:

Part Twenty Nine

Towards the end of a busy day

First a picture of Trepol Bay :

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-270923152335.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135916)


Whilst at the Tregonning for the second time in a day Jimmy got to work fixing new bolts and locks to all of the doors and ensuring that the windows, not that there were many, were firmly shut.
He also took the opportunity to start to record and catalogue  the various whiskies and take some samples for tasting over the coming days and weeks.

Meanwhile in Wadebridge Sandy spent a good hour wandering around the town. His instincts told  him that Big Bert and the Bedford truck wouldn't be far away.
He eventually made his way to an old industrial part of the town on the road  towards Newquay.
A slightly open workshop door, hanging on gamely by its hinges, caught his attention. As he approached, Sandy could see the Bedford's nose sticking out, the vehicle being slightly too long to fit into the workshop and close the doors fully.
Easing open the door a little further it was clear that the remaining case of whisky and the two barrels were still on the back.

Sandy made his way back into town. As he passed The Penny Farthing pub he peered in through the rather grubby, nicotine stained window.
As expected there, sitting in the corner with two other men, was Big Bert, a pint was cradled snuggly in his big hands.

Sandy carried on to the local police station where he introduced himself, explained the reason for his being in Cornwall and presented all of the evidence implicating Big Bert, whose surname he still didn't know, in the incident at Tregonning.
The local Sergeant, who had for many months been trying to 'nick' Bert Richards was very grateful and agreed to Sandy's request totake on the rest of the investigation locally but to delay the actual arrest for two days.
The Sergeant also agreed to post a young PC outside of the warehouse tomorrow in case another attempt at stealing whisky was attempted.
Sandy explained that he would deal with Daniel Brodie himself. He had plans to arrest him in person "up country" .
He had a hunch that Brodie would be headed out of Conwall in the next forty eight hours and he was pretty certain he knew where he'd be heading.

That evening Jimmy joined Sandy and Doris for what would be a well earned celebratory evening meal.
It had already been pre-arranged for Sir William, Lady Annabelle and distillery chairman William Murdoch-McLeod to join them at nine for drinks.

Jimmy was becoming more and more relaxed in such exalted company but still found it very difficult to refer to the distillery owners as Bill and Annie.
Nevertheless he was enjoying himself and was all ears as Bill outlined an idea for two days time. It transpired that plans were afoot for Bill, Annie, William, Sandy, Doris and Jimmy to head off up-country by train.
Bill and Annie were making all of the arrangements and, apparently, all would be revealed tomorrow.

Jimmy went to bed very pleased with his first day's work for the distillery even if most of it mostly involved chasing criminals.

The boot was now, as far as Jimmy was concerned, very much on the other foot.

Excellent continuing developments, Martin.

Hope you're feeling much better, now. COVID-19 is doing the rounds here but the weather is excellent so keeping windows open and sitting outside in the fresh air is, very unusually for late September, still enjoyable.

Part Thirty

Bumfit!


It was just after ten in the forenoon at 'Old' Joe McDonald's farm, off the hill road between Port Poppy and Sillybury, and PC Bob 'Tanner' Peel stood beside Joe watching attentively as the farmer's son and son-in-law put the last group of sheep through the dip.  As they did so, he heard Joe saying:

"Yan, Tan, Tethera, Methera, Pip
Sethera, Letherath, Hovera, Dovera, Dik   
Yanadik, Tanadik, Tetheradik, Metheradik"

And, as the final ewe left the dip... "Bumfit!"

PC Peel wrote something quickly in his notebook and turned to Joe, "How many do you make it, Joe?"

"Bumfit," replied the old farmer.

"A lot more than that, Joe," said Tanner, smiling.

"We'll make a shepherd out of you, yet," laughed Joe and took two pebbles from his pocket.  "Giggot, Giggot and Bumfit!"

Tanner pointed to the number he had written in his notebook and Joe, seeing '55', grinned and said, "Looks like they taught you well at school in Poppingham.  Come down to the house for tea and a bit of cake."

Leaving the two young men to clear up, Joe and Tanner walked down to the farmhouse accompanied by Moss, Fly and Annie, Joe's Border Collies.  Old Moss' gentle brown eyes were filled with happiness at a job well done – her two offspring were shaping up nicely.


(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/6222-280923092459.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135924)

[Yan!]


As they entered the house, Tanner removed his helmet and wished Mrs McDonald a good morning.  She ushered him to the sink where he could wash his hands and face after being at the dipping.  Joe then did likewise and joined Tanner at the large oak table where Mrs McDonald had invited him to sit and was pouring tea into pink china cups.  In the middle of the table there was a pile of freshly-baked scones, shortbread and fruit cake. 

"Get stuck in, lad," said Mrs McDonald and soon Tanner and Old Joe were enjoying a well-deserved feast. After they had drained their second cup of tea, Joe thanked Tanner for coming to officiate at the dipping then said, "One good turn deserves another.  You know how I know people that know people but I don't know them?"

Tanner nodded, smiling inwardly and thinking that Old Joe's turn of phrase was every bit as obscure as his counting.

Joe continued, "Well, I've heard tell that one of those fellows I told you about is going to have a consignment of stolen whisky delivered by train from Cornwall to the harbour.  Him and his hard men are then going to steal a boat and take the whisky away somewhere.  I thought you might like to know."

"Thank you very much, Joe," said Tanner.  "But why bring it all the way here rather than steal a boat at a harbour in Cornwall; it's not as if there's any shortage of them?"

"It's because, although the young man is a stranger, the rest of the gang are well-known throughout the county and would be rumbled immediately.  I don't know why they decided on here – I think it must be because it's a quiet harbour nowadays and served by an even quieter branch line."

"That certainly, makes sense, Joe," said Tanner.

"One last thing, lad, you'll know the stolen whisky because it will be labelled for the Neapolitan Hotel in Port Poppy."

"We don't have a Neapolitan Hotel," said Tanner, thinking he was missing something.

"We did though, before your time.  It was the Neapolitan, but was renamed the Black Swan after the War started, seeing we was at war with them Italians.  There were troops and Royal Navy chaps billeted there for a while."

"After the War, the place became increasingly run down – we all called it the Dirty Duck – until the owners sold up because the bank forced them to.  It was then bought by Poppingham Estates and done up.  His lordship gave the tenancy to young Graham Hill who renamed it The Crown after the nice hotel his uncle and aunt run in Poppingham.  Graham spent a lot of time there as a nipper and always wanted to run a hotel when he grew up."

"Thank you, Joe," said Tanner as Mrs McDonald poured him another cup of tea.  "What you have told me is very helpful.  I don't suppose you know which one of the two names you gave me earlier it will be."

"That I don't lad," said Joe, "I expect you'll find out for yourself.  But be careful – I heard his associates will be some right rough types."

After thanking Mrs McDonald, Tanner got on his bicycle and hurried back to Port Poppy police station.  As he peddled past the gate to the next farm, Tom Cobley's, Tanner thought it strange that he had not been there yet for the sheep dipping.  He pondered a moment about this – Cobley was a rum character and scab is a terrible disease in sheep.  He resolved to pay farmer Cobley a visit soon.  But, first, there was other work to be done.

Old Moss watched him cycling down the road and finished the little piece of buttered fruit scone he had given her.  She knew that he knew he wasn't meant to give treats to a working dog, but was jolly glad he did so all the same.

Part Thirty One

A final dilemma


The next morning would be Jimmy's first in the office as it  were so after a very agreeable breakfast with Sandy and Doris he headed off to the distillery where he arrived at exactly 8-30.

Sandy had a quiet day planned. The weather was lovely again and so he set aside an hour to make a few telephone calls before he would spend the late morning and afternoon  visiting the seaside town of Falmouth with his dear wife.
They were invited to Sir William's home later that  evening along with Jimmy and a several other people where the distillery owner's plans for the following day would be revealed.

The first of Sandy's calls was to PC Tanner up in Port Poppy where the two of them made plans to arrest Daniel Brodie whom he was sure would be catching a train to the village that very morning. Sandy also passed on some other useful snippets of infrmation to Tanner.
Sandy had asked the sergeant at Wadebridge police station to track Brodie and his girlfriend Alice to make sure that they indeed bought tickets and boarded a train towards Poppyshire.

Sandy's second call was, of course, to Wadebridge 'nick' where the sergeant confirmed that the young Irish couple were indeed on their way up country.
The sergeant also confirmed that Big Bert would be arrested at around noon  the following day in the Penny Farthing Pub.

Sandy's final call was to DCI Bob Baird of Poppyshire and Silliness Constabulary.

Satisfied with his hour's work Sandy met up with his wife Doris before the pair headed off to catch a train for Falmouth. The couple  had arranged to take a break in Perranwell on  the way where he'd heard tat the local pub was extremely well known for their lunch time menu.

The rest of the day for Sandy, Doris and Jimmy went without incident with all three returning to the  Cedars at around 5-30.

Two brief messages were awaiting Sandy. The first from Wadebridge police station confirming that, as expected, Big Bert had again driven to the warehouse at Tregonning but had been deterred from entering the premises by the young PC who was waiting nearby.

The other message was from DCI Baird. It read simply, "Brodie under surveillance and possible others.  All good for Tanner and tomorrow".

Sandy smiled to himself. Everything was woking out well.

Later that evening at Sir William's house just outside of St Agnes the assembled guests had enjoyed a fabulous meal along with some fine wines.
Soon it was time for the host to address the assembled guests.

"Thank you friends and  colleagues for coming here this evening. You are no doubt wondering what this is all about?  Well, first it is to welcome Jimmy Johnstone to our team at the distillery. He will be a very useful addition to the workforce so let's raise a toast to the young man".

Everyone raised there glasses and a ripple of applause echoed around the room, "In addition, I have some grand news to impart. St Agnes Distillery is taking a huge stride forward in launching it's whiskies onto various markets within the UK and abroad. As such, we have arranged  a launch event  tomorrow at The Crown Hotel in Port Poppy. Everyone here this evening is invited with the only stipulation that you must be at St Agnes railway station at 8-30 tomorrow morning. All tickets, first class of course, have been booked and accommodation and meals will be provided."

With that Bill sat down and a huge cheers erupted from the assembled guests.

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying a few drinks along with pleasant conversation. It was nearly eleven before Sandy, Doris and Jimmy arrived back at The Cedars Hotel

As they were collecting their room keys the receptionist looked up at Jimmy "Oh, sorry sir. I nearly forgot. I have a telegram for you".

Jimmy, looking more than a little surprised, took the paper but decided to open it in his room.
A few minutes later, with slightly trembling fingers he opened it to reveal the message  :
"SIX CASKS 30YO BY TRAIN. NEED YOU TO INTERCEPT AT TAUNTON. £5000. TOMORROW. 18-30. MCDOUGALL GLASGOW".

Jimmy's hear sank. He thought he was over all of this. Tommy McDougall one  the biggest gang leaders in the Gorbals was expecting Jimmy to intercept no less than five casks of whisky.
What should he do?
It would be very unwise to mess with Tommy McD and five thousand pounds was an awful lot of money. 

Jimmy decided to sleep on it.......

And now a photograph of the Perranwell Arms where Doris and Sandy hopefully enjoyed a pleasant luncheon in their way to Falmouth earlier in the day

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-280923122930.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135930)

Everyone will be pleased to know that the next episode, which will be fairly long, will be the penultimate one.

The final episode will be quite short.

Quote from: port perran on September 28, 2023, 03:16:29 PMEveryone will be pleased to know that the next episode, which will be fairly long, will be the penultimate one.

The final episode will be quite short.

I certainly won't  :(

Been really enjoyable read  :thumbsup:


Ed

I am with @Ed . It is an interesting story which could go on for ...... ages as far as I am concerned.  :thumbsup:

Agreed with Ed and David. Love the photos too

Thank you for your kind comments everyone but the end is nearly here.
The penultimate episode follows but first a fine pictureingham of a D11/12 4-4-0 conveying, in Pullman accommodation of course, guests to Port Poppy and an evening of celebration.
(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-280923180646.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135934)

Part Thirty Two

Jimmy makes his decision but will it lead to an evening of celebration?

Jimmy awoke very early next morning after a fitful night's sleep.

The previous evening's telegram had certainly 'put the cat amongst the pigeons'  but his mind was now firmly made up. Maybe the beer, wine and whisky from the previous evening had caused him to waver but this morning Jimmy could breathe a sigh of relief.
He would tell Sandy about the telegram at breakfast.

Sandy, Doris and Jimmy had arranged to have breakfast very early as they were, of course, due to be at St Agnes railway station at eight thirty.
After exchanging the usual pleasantries Jimmy was straight out with his news. He could wait no longer to get it off his chest.
"Don't you worry my boy", said Sandy "We've been tracking Tommy McDougall for several days. That whisky is from the Balvenie distillery and is on its way, legitimately, to Plymouth but intelligence warned us of a suspected incident at Taunton. We have men aboard the train but we weren't aware that McDougall would try to get you involved.  As for McDougall himself,  don't you worry about him at all. I expect him to spend a good few years behind bars before much longer.
All is in hand but thank you for sharing this with me Jimmy. It's all very useful evidence and a credit to your hinesty.

Jimmy was immensely  relieved. He could now enjoy the day with a completely clear conscience.


After a somewhat hurried breakfast the trio made their way, with overnight bags, to the station where they were amongst the last to arrive.

Already there were Bill and Annie Rundle, William Murdoch McLean with his wife Rosemary, Tom Biggins, Ross McLeary  plus two people Jimmy didn't recognise but later found out were Lord and Lady Trevelver, great friends of Sir William and Annie.
Several employees from the distillery had also been chosen to travel making the final total some twenty people.

Sir William called everyone together to announce the plans for the day,
"So everyone, our train will be here at 8-30. We'll be in the front carriage which has been specially reserved for us. We change  at Wadebridge where we will board the 9-45 service to Exeter St David's. Again, we'll be in the leading, first class carriage with a buffet car next to us. You are free to help yourself to whatever you want to eat  but please  don't over indulge as we have a five course meal for your enjoyment beyond Exeter.
We'll be catching the 11-30 service from Exeter to Birmingham Snow Hill, this time in coach three which will be first class dining.  From Birmingham we will travel forward, again first class of course, towards Tableford where we will change to a local service for Bobbington. There we will be met by my great friend Lord Pandaford who will escort us on the local preserved railway,in a Pullman car no less, to Port Poppy railway station. From there it's just a short stroll to the Crown Hotel where our evening of celebrations will be taking place".

Sir William barely had time to finish his introduction before a rather scruffy ex Great Western prairie tank arrived with its three coach train bound for Wadebridge.
Everyone clambered excitedly into the first carriage.

For those interested in such things, the onward journey was handled by a Bullied Light pacific to Exeter St David's, a Castle 4-6-0 as far as Bristol then a Hall on to Birmingham followed by a Black Five to Tableford . It was then a rather scruffy and smelly Diesel Multiple Unit on  to Bobbington. Happily, Lord Pandaford, whom many of us know better as Bertie Poppingham, had arranged for a gleaming D11/12 4-4-0 number 6397 – The lady of the Lake  to complete the journey on the Poppyshire & Sillyshire Railway to Port Poppy.

And so it was that a very tired but happy band of travellers arrived at the pretty little railway station in the delightful harbour town of Port Poppy from where they made their way along the  street to The Crown Hotel to be met they by the landlord  Graham Hill.

It had been a long day but everyone had around ninety minutes to settle into their rooms, refresh and get ready for the evening which began at 7-30 with yet another announcement from the owner of The St Agnes Distillery, Sir William Rundle.
"Welcome, welcome everyone on behalf of me, Sir William Rundle and my wife Lady Annabelle.  I think you probably all know me but in case you don't I'll start by insisting that we are Bill and Annie, none of that stuffy Lord and Lady formality.
Now, the reason for being here is to celebrate what is effectively a re-launch  of our very special whisky products to a much wider market and to welcome our new Whisky Ambassador, Jimmy Johnstone".

There was a polite ripple of applause.

"First though, I want to introduce DCI Ian Laird of the Poppyshire and Sillyshire Constabulary along with a young PC from Port Poppy, Bob Peel whom I'm told is  better known around these parts as Tanner. We also have Sarjeant Dixon here who simply goes by the name of Sarge. DCI Laird has some very important information that he'd like to share with us".

The DCI stood up and started by thanking Sir William for inviting him, and the other officers, along then continued "I hope I don't embarrass young Jimmy Johnstone here too much but you probably all know about his upbringing in The Gorbals, Glasgow and his life of petty crime and involvement in what I can only term whisky rustling. Well, it is  thanks to my big friend Sandy Murdoch, who is of course here with us this evening, that Jimmy has seen sense and turned his back on all of that. I'll leave Bill here to fill you in on all of the details of his job in Cornwall but I'm here to give an update on a series of arrests made by police both here and in Cornwall earlier today. I'll get straight to the point. At mid-day officers from Wadebridge in Cornwall arrested a notorious small time crook known locally as Big Bert. At much the same time, Bob Peel and Sarge here, together with a group of  plain clothed officers, followed  Daniel Brodie who alighted from a train at Silliness Station earlier today. He was followed to a little cove just round the corner  from the harbour where he met up with Tommy McDougal and two of his mates who have long been wanted by Glasgow police in connection with stealing whisky. Brodie had collected two cases of whisky from The St Agnes distillery which had been forwarded here by train.
It's a real feather in the cap for the local force so I'd like to raise a toast to PC Peel  and Serjeant  Dixon and also to Old Farmer McDonald for the tip off that led to the arrests".

DCI Laird sat down to a huge round of applause before Sir William addressed everyone once again, "Thank's Ian. It's all worked out so well and I'm sure that thanks to the police and, of course, Jimmy Johnstone, the whisky industry can feel much safer. Now it's on to the enjoyable part of the evening. We have a wonderful meal lined up for you and you'll each have two presentation boxes of miniature whiskies in front of you. They are yours to take away with you and contain some very old and, in a couple of instances extremely valuable samples. I want you each to keep one sample as a possible investment but to drink and enjoy the other one.  Finally, I just want to wish you all well for the future and hope the distillery can move forward as a world leader. Enjoy your food"

It was much, much later, well gone midnight, when the party broke up.

As Jimmy climbed wearily into bed he could vaguely remember agreeing to a fishing trip next morning with Sir William, Sandy, Sarjeant Dixon, Mr Laird, Graham Hill and a couple of others but soon he was sound asleep.

He'd never been fishing before in his life.

He fell asleep dreaming of his beloved Celtic Football Club winning The European Cup!

Part Thirty Three

The Fishing Trip

Next morning Jimmy was woken with a start by a loud banging on his bedroom door.
"Wake up, wake up. It's fishing at nine and breakfast first so get a move on".

Jimmy made his way down to breakfast but could only manage Corn Flakes after over doing things a bit last evening. Nevertheless he made it down to the harbour by nine to see a goodly gathering of folk ready for the big expedition out to sea.

A small boat bobbed happily by the harbour wall.

Everyone boarded led by Sir William and Sandy and then came Serjeant Dixon, DCI Laird, Graham Hill, Bob Peel, Tom Biggins and, of course, Jimmy Johnstone then just as the the skipper was ready to move off a slight but athletic looking young man with red-brown hair came running around the corner.

Jimmy sat open-mouthed. The lad running towards the boat was none other than his namesake Jimmy Johnstone the great Celtic footballer and Jimmy's hero.

"Aye, Jimmy's coming to join us Jimmy" said a beaming Sir William who could tell that he had just made someone's day.

Out at sea everyone caught their share of fish including pollock, plaice and a few bass but the day was made special for another young member of the party.

Bob Peel was gently reeling in a small pollock when DCI Laird leaned over to him "Well done laddie for helping to bring those whisky crooks to justice. I have  a little surprise as a reward. Sarge over there has agreed to your joining us plain clothed lot. It'll be a nice little promotion for you".

The End

(https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/gallery/135/230-290923065538.jpeg) (https://www.ngaugeforum.co.uk/SMFN/index.php?action=gallery;sa=view&id=135944)

Quote from: crewearpley40 on September 28, 2023, 06:02:57 PMAgreed with Ed and David. Love the photos too

Seconded! I agree with all the above positive comments.

what an absolutely brilliant tale. loved reading every bit of it.

Quote from: Graham on September 29, 2023, 08:02:45 AMwhat an absolutely brilliant tale. loved reading every bit of it.

Totally agree, great story, thank you  :thumbsup:


Ed

I really enjoyed that. Thank you.

Hi Martin,

Another thumbs up from me. Very enjoyable and well written.

Cheers, weave  :beers:

 :hellosign:  :greatpicturessign:  :thankyousign:
  Many thanks Martin (& John) an excellent tale well written & most enjoyable, super photos too
 :thumbsup: from me
  stay safe regards Derek

Quote from: port perran on September 29, 2023, 06:55:51 AMThe End

Aw.  :(

That has been a lovely, well told story. Thank you to all who put it all together.  :thumbsup:

Well done Martin and Keith.

A SuperSpiffing story!

And that wee boatie, bobbing off the coast of Poppyshire and Sillyshire is a long way from home.

I look forward to your next adventure.

With all good wishes.

John

Sorry, I forgot to acknowledge John and Keith for their input  :thumbsup:  I forget things sometimes....can't think why  :beers:   :beers:   :beers:

Well, finally caught up with the story after our travels to foreign parts (which were rather warm).

Excellent tale telling Martin, thank you!  :thumbsup: Well, done to Jimmy too.

Pleased to have played my (very) small part.

I hope you had a SuperSpiffing holiday, Keith.

Best wishes

John

@keithbythe sea

Thank you John @Train Waiting

Yes, super spiffing indeed. Rather unseasonably hot, 30+ degrees in both Tenerife and Gran Canaria but I guess that this is global warming. Unfortunately it has sparked more wildfires but the Canary pine is very resilient.