An Irishman's Diary: George Bernard Shaw blows his horn

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An Irishman's Diary: George Bernard Shaw blows his horn 

The discovery of a previously unpublished letter can often be interesting in and of itself but when the letter-writer is one of Ireland's greatest ever playwrights the find is even more remarkable.

George Bernard Shaw was, as the accompanying article makes clear, a prolific writer of letters as well as plays, novels and critiques etc.  As a result many of his epistles grace museums and collections around the world but surprisingly few give an insight into his daily life, most being about his work and writings.

This is one of the rarer ones, then, a classically scathing Shavian criticism of his then-new motor car dating from January 1909.  Shaw's ready wit and way with words make his works a joy to read and his personal correspondence is no different!  He was an early convert to the motorised carriage and despite it still being in its infancy he obviously thought his De Dietrich model should have been further down the development path than it was.  One wonders if the company's fortunes (and those of coachbuilders Todd & Wright) suffered at all through this celebrity disapproval!

As mentioned this quite an unusual find although not unique, with several other examples of missives from Shaw floating around the Internet.  The wonderful blog Letters Of Note has four such examples, including another absolutely brilliant letter that Shaw wrote to The Times newspaper in July 1905 regarding a fellow opera-goer. 

I've always felt that private letters give a fascinating insight into the mind of the writer and Bernard Shaw is no exception, with the added bonus of a good chuckle or three as well.  Since his letters are so witty and sharp I think it's about time I reacquainted myself with some of his equally entertaining professional works.  I hope whoever ends up buying this newly-unearthed letter appreciates its historic value and the great humorous mind from which it sprang.

My two penn'orth

On Sunday I went to my first antiques fair for, I am ashamed to say, three or four years (although that enforced absence was in no small part due to circumstances outside of my control) - the Runnymede Hall Antique & Collectors Fair in Benfleet, Essex.

Picture by Martin Hayhurst ©                                          Pictures of England.com

It was nice to be back amongst some really rather nice vintage bits and bobs, items like classic rotary-dial telephones in varying age and condition, silverware (snuffboxes, cigarette/card cases, lighters etc.) 1930s cigarette cards, but mainly jewellery and china.  The event proved popular with a full car park and a large crowd attending; I spotted one or two vintage guys and gals amongst the throng.

What took me aback, though, and highlighted just how out of touch I have become with antiques fairs were the prices.  The last fair I went was before vintage and retro became fashionable again so prices were on the low side but on Sunday, with a few exceptions, most items started at double figures!  Granted there were quite a few examples of really sought-after names, like Clarice Cliff and Lalique - in fact there was a fair share of high-end stuff on display - but bargains were practically non-existent.  I was not altogether surprised, however, as my natural interest in vintage (and programmes like Antiques Road Trip or Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is) has meant that I've been aware of the rising price of antiques but to actually see it in the raw was still a bit of a shock.  I've been to a few antiques shops and arcades more recently where the prices have been less eye-popping, so perhaps there's a chance this was an aberration.

As a result I very nearly came away with nothing (which wouldn't have been the end of the world, I only went there for a look 'round and the off-chance of picking something up).  We'd wandered about, myself and my parents with whom I'd met up for the day and who pained me by commenting on practically every other item "we/ your grandparents used to have that, but gave it to the charity shop when we moved" and were getting ready to leave when I had one final rummage through a box of old pennies by the door.  Most were in such bad state that they were little more than scrap but I managed to find two rather unusual ones in good condition.

Dated 1935 and 1936 they consist of a Republic of Ireland 1d. coin and an old penny from the then Union of South Africa, which was still a British dominion at the time.  I've not got many pre-decimal coins from outside the British Isles, so they will be a welcome addition to my collection and for a paltry 20p I couldn't say no.  (Brief investigations on eBay show similar examples starting around the £1 mark, so not bad).  Around 5½ million 1935 Irish pennies were minted so they're by no means ultra-rare; the South African penny I'm less sure about.

Essex Vintage Fair

So that's literally my two penn'orth from my latest antiques fair experience(!).  There's another due to be held on the 1st April which I shall probably head along to as well.  It looks from the flyer as though it may be even bigger and better than Sunday's one; I shall look forward to finding out.

How Victorian engineers almost built an underwater tunnel between Scotland and Ireland

How Victorian engineers almost built an underwater tunnel between Scotland and Ireland

This story has been reported by various news sites, including the B.B.C., but by far the best and most comprehensive description is from science [fiction] blog io9.

As anyone who has crossed the Irish Sea will tell you, a train journey (or, these days, an aeroplane flight) is infinitely more preferable to a ferry crossing and this was obviously very much the case even a hundred years ago.  It should come as no surprise therefore that the industrially-minded Victorians seriously considered a series of railway tunnels beneath the Irish Sea; the idea of a Channel Tunnel had been mooted almost a century earlier so the intent was clearly there.  Regrettably in both cases the huge engineering challenge would prove too great for Victorian science to overcome.  Nevertheless that such a plan was drawn up is a remarkable testament to the technological ambition and farsightedness of 19th Century engineers.

The suggestion of tunnels between mainland Britain, Ireland and the Isle of Man still occasionally appears even today.  But it was the Victorians who first thought of the idea even though they, and subsequent supporters of the scheme, were always stymied by the matter of cost, politics and now a difference in the railway gauge.  It's not to say that the project is unfeasible, however, and I'm sure the vision will still be revisited in the future and - who knows? - maybe even undertaken.

WW2 Catalina flying boats return to Fermanagh base

WW2 Catalina flying boats return to Fermanagh base

I've been looking forward to writing up this one all week, as it concerns one of my favourite aircraft - the Consolidated PBY Catalina.  Not only that, it also involves the experiences and reminiscences of two ex-pilots who appear to have grasped the opportunity to fly in one of the few remaining airworthy examples with both hands - and why not?!  It sounds like they had a wonderful time and it's lovely to hear their recollections.

As well as the memories there is of course the interesting historical reminder of one of the ways in which the "neutral" Republic of Ireland was involved in the Second World War.  I myself was aware of similar operations (although not this particular one, I must admit) and of the part played by the Catalina in the sinking of the Bismarck, but as with so much about World War II it is important that such stories remain in the public consciousness - so it's good to see this 70th anniversary being celebrated and reported in such a fashion.

Like so many great aircraft of the war, the Cat has many impressive stories surrounding it and is a wonderful aircraft to see in the air - and on the water!  I well remember one year at my local airshow in Southend a Catalina performing a touch-and-go landing on a (rather rough!) Thames Estuary.  I've even dug out and dusted off my (I say "my" - this was actually built by my father, so long ago that I was probably younger than the "suitable age"!  It's still available, though!) own Airfix model that hasn't seen the light of day for years, especially for this post.

Although the American-designed Catalina had first flown in 1935 it wasn't until 4 years later that the British Air Ministry took an interest in it, and even then they only ordered one example for evaluation.  Having received this somewhat conservative order, Consolidated simply plucked a completed Catalina straight off the production line in San Diego and stuck a crew in it who, thanks to the aircraft's colossal 2,500-mile range, flew it directly from San Diego to Felixstowe in England.  When it arrived, many of those watching from the ground refused to believe that it had flown non-stop across the Atlantic, since its engines were still purring away happily without the slightest sign of strain or oil.  They were even more sceptical when the crew explained that, with the aid of the standard yet sophisticated on-board radio equipment, they had been in wireless contact with San Diego as they had landed.  Even then it wasn't until 1941 that the Catalina entered service with RAF Coastal Command, to perform some of the feats mentioned in this accompanying article.

Elsewhere Cats were performing valuable service with most branches of the U.S. armed forces, most notably as air-sea rescue craft with the U.S. Navy.  In one incident, on the 29th May 1945, a Catalina was sent up to provide support for a B-29 bombing raid on Japan.  On its return one bomber did indeed ditch in the Pacific and the Cat was sent to pick them up.  On arrival at the crash site, the Cat promptly landed in open sea and retrieved the bomber crew from their dinghy.  However on attempting to take off again, it was struck forcibly by three large waves which ripped the port engine and part of the wing clean off.  Crashing through the cockpit, it seriously injured the pilot.  The co-pilot was able to radio a back-up rescue submarine and, despite the substantial damage to its structure the Catalina remained afloat until the sub arrived the following day to pick up both crews.

Such are just two stories to go with the one detailed in the original news piece, there are undoubtedly many more involving this fantastic aeroplane.  May it continue to fly and keep the memories of its pilots and crew alive for many years to come.