We carried the cases down to the ferry and waited patiently in a long queue watching race and road motorcycles being craned in twos and fours onto the ships deck where they were roped vertically to the decks against the bulkheads, bulwarks, companionways and even the guardrails, separated from each other by large mattress-style pads. Each motorcycle had its petrol tank syphoned and emptied on the dockside "for safety reasons".........Pity the riders who arrived at the pier head with full tanks.
We then walked aboard up the steep gangplank and found seating - anywhere, sometimes down below when the weather was bad.
The ferry could take 4 to 5 hours to cross to Douglas. The weather could be very unkind and there were years when we felt that the boat stood on its ends and without the stablisers, many passengers were sick. I preferred to walk the deck, if I sat down I felt sick. My Uncle could still find room for a pork pie no matter how much the the boat rolled and bobbed ! Often we ended up having a cup of tea down in the engine room or watching the loxodograph !!!! (look it up !)
We were oh so very pleased to see Douglas Bay appear out of the mist, and, after the delay while ferry docked and tied up, were soon on Manx soil (or concrete). Some of us were so pleased to get off the ferry that we fell down on our knees and kissed the ground. In other years it could be a crossing on a mill-pond sea.
When we had retrieved the suitcases from the pursers storage area, we went down the gangplank and set out to find a taxi. We were taken along the sea front to our hotel, Kennishs Regal, and were met by the owner who made us very welcome. Our cases were put in our rooms and we went down to a slap-up meal and to meet up with other people who were staying in the hotel, some new, some from previous years.
After a long day of travelling and chatting in the bar after the meal, it was good to see a bed at last and we all crashed out.
However, we would be awakened by an alarm clock right next to the ear -- and we would be up and dressed and out in the dark at 4.30 AM to go up to the "practice". In those days we walked up from the hotel on the sea front, through the little lanes, and eventually found Nobles Park dead ahead. It would getting light and we could see more people converging on the Paddock area and vans arriving. Sometimes we would hear the brattle of exhausts as a race bike or two were ridden up by mechanics who used this noisy ride to get the oil nice and hot.
Everybody else seemed to walk in those days and we followed that pattern for about 20 years. I can still dream about the route we took step by step from the hotel to the paddock !
Along the sea front were coach companies vying for trade.
One coach company rep would visit a selected number of the hotels at breakfast time to tell us where they were going that day, - Round the Island, Rushen Abbey, Calf of Man or the Mystery Tour during Practice Week, then Ginger Hall, Creg ny Baa, Ramsey and other vantage spots in Race Week. We saw a lot of the Island in this way and it served me well for the days when circumstances changed. My parents sometimes had the use of a car but only for a day or two and they formed a foursome with another couple so I went off with friends of my age group....on foot !.
When I started going on my own or with girl friends I looked into car hire and was pleased to see how reasonable it was to hire a vehicle for a week. However, I hired only for practice week, handing it back in and reverting to the coaches for race week. Car hire was not yet a priority since most people, by now, went over with their own motorcycles. The promenade on the hotel side could have bikes parked up to three rows deep.
In the 70s when I had my family over with me I hired vehicles for the full period while we were over. The definition of vehicle ranged from a small Minivan to a large van, with Morris Marinas, Ford 105Es, a Mini and a Ford Escort in between.
Being two metres tall, there were times when I found I was horribly cramped but still managed to go where we wanted to go. We went to the beach at Sulby one day and found an unexploded target shell which we reported !
It was not until the 80s that I decided to take my own car over on the ferry. It was a company car, brand new, and I took the family. We parked outside the hotel (Tom Cringles Min-y-Don) and took the cases up to the room.......
When I came back down a seagull had bombed my car right in the centre of the bonnet. A lovely new red car and a very naughty seagull.
Tom came out with water and cloths but we were too late.......
There was a big "burn" left by the bird droppings and this burn was still there two years after.
TTFAN AND THE NEW CAR THAT WAS BOMBED
