Big River – The Tyne: Past and Present

Grumpy Git Productions proudly announce the release of their latest film, Big River. I hope that you enjoy it:

Background

I first heard Jimmy Nail performing Big River back in 1995, and the song instantly struck a chord with me (pun more or less intended). It tells the story about Jimmy’s memories of growing up in the North East and his recollections about his father’s career in the Tyne shipyards when coal, steel and shipbuilding were the backbone of North East industry. It’s a lovely song; melodic with some atmospheric twanging (as we non-musicians call it) provided by my favourite musician, Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits, on lead guitar - yet with Jimmy’s gruff tones providing a rough and ready working class feel as he relates the story.

One of the most famous ships to be built on the Tyne; RMS Mauretania being fitted out.

Photo from the Atlantic Liners website.

RMS Mauretania leaving the Tyne on the 22 October 1907 .

From a picture by Tom M Hemy in the collection of Newcastle Arts Centre.

Jimmy Nail compares the days of his father’s generation with the gradual decline of the river and its dependence on coal to a period of depression and stagnation as, one by one, the shipyards and coal mines closed down. The song ends with a promise for the future; ‘The river will rise again’. Fourteen years on, the river is rising again and the regeneration has been amazing, especially along the old quaysides at Newcastle. Downstream, work is in progress to give new life to long dead shipyards, factories and coal loading staiths and quays. Into their place go apartments, riverside parks and shopping centres – hardly the industrial powerhouse of fifty years ago, but nevertheless, a very welcome resurgence of life to the area. This would make a fascinating film, so back in July I decided to make a video that would accompany the song.

Jimmy’s memories were broadly similar to my own in several respects. I was brought up on the River Wear, rather than the Tyne itself, but was no stranger to the ‘Big River’, especially Newcastle. Any self respecting Mackem (someone from Sunderland) will flinch at the preposterous idea that anyone from Sunderland could even hint at an association with Newcastle, but there you go. Live and let live, eh?

Your author at Roker on the River Wear, long before grumpiness set in.

My mother would also take my younger brother and me to South Shields, and we’d watch the ships entering and leaving the river – I paid homage to this with an old family photo near the beginning of the film, as it leads nicely into the present day scene at the same location. That picture was taken in 1974; some 35 years later the ship looks as handsome as ever, whilst as for me …..


To keep the story relevant, I decided to follow the lyrics with images as closely as possible, but substitute the family coal mining connections in place of the shipyards mentioned in the original. Of course, mining was inextricably intertwined with shipbuilding and every other industry at the time anyway. Coal was King, and with good reason - it fuelled industry; provided warmth and electricity to homes, ran the railways that provided transportation and, of course, coal drove the ships that were being built on the Tyne itself. In the film, therefore, impressions of this vast industry would be vital to create the atmosphere that I wanted to convey.

Shipbuilding on the Tyne, photo from the excellent Old Hebburn & Jarrow Collection.

Filming

Before filming began, I listened to the song many times in the car on the way to work and back, so that I could create the storyboard in my mind. Once I had a visualisation set in place, the interesting research work could begin. Authenticity was an important factor; the film would need to look and feel the part, especially to anyone who hails from the area. A little poetic licence would be necessary as the only trams I’ve ever been on have been in museums (I just look as though I used to commute on them).

I had various requirements for the film; notably I needed a functioning coal mine and industrial machinery hard at work; old street scenes with trams; docks and / or shipyards; ships of different shapes and sizes; steam trains; modern scenes of the regenerated Tyne, vintage scenes of the declining Tyne and a closed colliery. So, that’s not asking too much, then.

After some research online, I chose the locations that seemed best suited for my purposes. The first trip was to the National Coal Mining Museum, and my story about the visit is recounted here. The NCM would feature as a 1970’s closed colliery, and I also obtained footage of the old ‘Paddy Train’, the quaint narrow gauge railway that took the miners to their work. This was quite a bonus, especially as it was operating during my visit.


The bulk of filming was done over a manic three-day visit to the North East over the summer bank holiday, which I wrote about here. The locations used for filming were Beamish Living Museum, Ryhope Steam Engines Museum and the River Tyne between Hebburn and Tynemouth, plus Newcastle Quays.

Beamish really made the historical part of the film possible. It provided the authentic street scenes, trams, the lovely park and some of the coal mine shots – notably the all-important working pithead winding gear that would recreate the atmosphere of the industrial era. Everything at Beamish is genuine North East material; whole buildings were dismantled brick by brick and erected at the museum in order to recreate the atmosphere of days gone by. The shops and businesses are genuine North East companies, and even the featured trams are from Sunderland and Gateshead. All of this would add impact to the film and make it more believable.


When Beamish first opened in the 1970's, they advertised for suitable old relics to be exhibited. My mother donated an old vacuum cleaner that now resides in one of the miner’s cottages. That’s impressed you, eh?

Thanks to Beamish and the NCM I now had plenty of exterior scenes to play with, but to really bring the industrial age to life I needed to get up close and personal with big old coal fired engines that used to power just about everything in industry and the home. I was after engines that took up entire buildings; steaming and pumping away amidst gleaming brass levers, polished steel, dials, handles, wheels, counterweights and pistons. How different to today’s machinery – anonymous grey cabinets full of flickering red and green diodes and clicking relays. These grey boxes do everything from powering the office coffee machine to unleashing nuclear war, and they just don’t have any character.

The big engines that I sought after looked and smelt like ‘proper kit.’ Nowadays in Britain, heavy industry is regarded as the machine that puts a dollop of butter on those pre-packed sandwiches on sale in Tesco. But real steam engines were almost a living entity – speak to the older generation who actually worked on them and you’ll understand this. Engines needed feeding with coal, then nurturing and cosseting to produce results and power. The men that fired and operated these beasts took great pride in them; hence spotless engine rooms full of gleaming brass and polished steelwork. Don’t get me wrong; working on them was not romantic or easy. It was hard work – bloody hard work, and not for the faint hearted. Shifts were long, incredibly hot, dirty and strenuous and conditions weren’t in the least bit comfortable. But nevertheless, many men who slaved away on them, whether they be steam trains, steamships or industry took great pride in getting the best out of their engines.

When things went wrong, these engines would blow up. It was messy, but at least you knew where the problem lay. What happens now when a machine goes wrong?

“Error Message 6142589. Port LFR2168 nodule unable to locate SMTP server 5469 LAN on proxy failed sender h=domainkey-signature:content-priority: bh=Ce08Lu7ZHp0Fb = pressing any key will delete entire hard drive. Not pressing any key within 30 seconds will delete entire hard drive. Press any key to continue."

Yes, we’ve all been there. No such gibberish back then; an error message was an almighty bang, and your head, arms and legs went through the roof, and not necessarily in that order.


To obtain footage of one such engine, I visited the Ryhope Engines Museum (story here) and was incredibly fortunate that it was during one of the handful of steaming days. I was able to film the boiler being fired up, and the huge pumping engine – that occupies three floors – in action. Ryhope Engines Museum itself is extremely friendly and welcoming, and I would thoroughly recommend a visit. The footage gained from the visit was invaluable, and would add a lot to the film.

The River Tyne was the most complex location to film at, as I needed to cover a large area in both geographical terms and timescale. Also, whereas my other locations were aimed at a clearly defined chapter of history, here I would require present day scenes, footage from the declining years when things were closing down and rotting away, plus some vintage clips to represent the industrial era. All of this, however, simply made the task more enjoyable and creative. The piers at Tynemouth, where the river enters the sea, were timeless and would suit any era. Newcastle Quays would represent the modern era, thanks to the fantastic regeneration programme in this area. Seeking out the 1970’s spots proved the most difficult, but in my travels I came across some abandoned quays and wooden jetties that have so far evaded the developers, who are steadily rebuilding everything. Film it while it’s there was my motto – leave it, and in six months time it could be yet another block of unaffordable apartments called ‘Cargo Ship View’ or ‘Derricks Haven’ or some such bollocks that developers think is necessary to remind homeowners that they are living next to a river, and thus justify the extra 25% purchase price. (It’s similar to the way that when they build houses on the site of old railway workshops; they come up with Gresley Close and Stephenson Mews. In years to come, when they put apartments up in Downing Street, I trust that it will be renamed ‘Lying Bastards Avenue’ in order to maintain the theme).

'Dock View', 'Big Cranes Drive' and 'Oil-Rig in My Garden Crescent' line the Tyne on
the 'Down By The Riverside Estate.' Aren't modern developers original?

I obtained some great shots along the Tyne, including the all-important opening scene of the cobblestone road and The Steamboat pub. That didn’t come from Beamish; no, it’s at South Shields in the beautifully restored area known as Custom House. Filming was done at daybreak; any later and the line of parked Mondeos and Vectras rather ruins the image. Plus you get knocked down while standing on the cobbles and that really spoils your day. As it is, it took half a dozen attempts to get that shot. I kept getting traffic going past at the top of the road, even at that unearthly hour, and when I moved the camera to the right to compensate, I discovered that I had a lovely view of a parked up Citroen Picasso. It was such a great shot that I persevered, and having seen the result, am pleased that I did. The Steamboat Pub is a lovely hostelry to frequent, and if you are going to follow my ‘Tyne Trail’, then call in for a much needed tipple during walkabout. If the owners of The Steamboat would like to thank me for the publicity with a pint or two - well, it would be rude to refuse. I knew I could work that in unobtrusively.

Finally, I wanted an impression of the railways that linked everything together, especially some industrial footage from a grimy, working yard. For this, the trusty Nene Valley Railway would provide the answer; I have written about my visit to obtain these scenes here, and in a less technical manner, here.

Production

Editing would require three distinct timeframes that would suit the three chapters of the story – present day, my childhood, and the ‘King Coal’ era. Present day would be in colour; the declining years in black and white, whilst the earlier era would need to be in black and white that would be aged to date it.

I now had masses amounts of film to play with. Editing had begun shortly after the visit to the Tyne, and I gradually joined up the various segments over umpteen cups of coffee and packs of Hobnobs. I don’t know how many times I listened to the song during this process – every edit required a run through to see if the changes had worked – but it’s a lot. Maybe I should go on ‘Britain’s Lamentably Short of Talent’; I’d be word perfect. The hard task of what to include and what to leave out got underway. Some clips were a natural choice; The Steamboat pub, the boy running for the tram, the Tyne Bridge and the cruise ship Boudicca passing the cannons at Tynemouth as she headed out to sea. Other scenes fitted the lyrics so well that they were included by default, even if they weren’t technically good shots. Editing took several weeks, as there were so many permutations to work with. Several good scenes were reluctantly cut for various reasons, and different techniques to represent the three distinct eras were tried. Some were great, some were awful; it was an absorbing exercise. Finally, I was pleased with what emerged. I had a film that closely matched the song lyrics, as well as the tempo of the music. It was a reasonably accurate impression of my memories, and contains a great deal of authentic material, even if it has been suitably doctored.

This is one of the best photos I've ever taken.

The song is, to my mind, a fantastic piece of writing. If you aren’t tapping your foot to the beat by the time the song ends, then you must have no aptitude for music at all, and I can therefore only suggest that you audition for X-Factor.

Things Can Only Get Wetter

I recently spent a very hectic but enjoyable bank holiday weekend back in my native North East England. The trip was planned around shooting some film clips for my next project, and I’d planned an interesting and varied schedule.

Step Back in Tyne

It all kicked off Saturday morning, when I drove up the A1 to my first port of call – literally – as I wanted to get some photographs of dawn breaking over Roker, at the Port of Sunderland. The weather cooperated, except for a fierce wind that made filming from the tripod a tad tricky.


Once I had all I wanted, I jumped back in the car for the short trip up to South Shields at the mouth of the River Tyne. Here I was also after some early morning shots, and as a North Sea ferry was due in around 08:30, I stuck around to film the arrival.

The Groyne Lighthouse at South Shields

Then back into the car to return to Sunderland and my digs for the duration – my mother’s house, of course. No matter how old and grumpy you get, your mother always thinks that you are 12 years old and therefore require looking after, so you are constantly plied with food and drink. I’m all in favour of this, especially as it entailed tucking into a full English breakfast before hitting the road again, this time to the open-air museum at Beamish, while I left a pair of trousers that required some new fly-buttons sewing on for repair. Old habits die hard.


Beamish calls itself The Living Museum of the North, and it lives up to this in every respect. At Beamish, you don’t visit a museum in the accepted sense – you go back in time to a period around the turn of the century. There is far too much going on to do it justice here, but everything from a town High Street, coal mine, farm, tramway, school ….. etc, etc, has been recreated in full and working order, so that the visitor can experience a slice of life from a time gone by.

The coal mine, restored in working order.

Sunderland tram 16 runs at Beamish. The route on the destination blind reads ‘Circle’ which was a suburban route in Sunderland that I used frequently as a boy – although it was buses in my day – how old do you think I look?! My mother recalls her days of riding these trams as an everyday occurrence. When the tram reached its destination, she and her friends would wait until the conductor had set the destination display and gone downstairs before they’d wind the handles round so that it would read somewhere completely different. Then they would flip all the reversible seats on the top deck so that they faced the wrong way round. And you thought teenage hooligans were a recent phenomenon!

I’ve visited Beamish before, and knew exactly what I wanted to see and film before moving on to my next location in the afternoon. But as always, there was just so much to see that I stayed all day until closing time. I returned to a home cooked dinner, and also was happy to find that my trousers had been repaired in the intervening hours, I’m pleased to say. I'd planned to return to South Shields for some evening filming, but in the event the weather turned nasty, as as I was pretty shattered from the rather full day I'd had, was pleased to call it quits and rest up instead.

As Tyne Goes By

Sunday would be a very different experience, as I was planning to do a lot of filming along the banks of the Tyne. After another full English breakfast, I took the excellent Metro to Hebburn, and planned to work my way downstream to South Shields via the various photo stops I’d worked out with Google maps and suggestions from friends and family in the area. Then I’d cross the river by the ferry to North Shields for filming at Tynemouth, and gradually work upstream as far as Howdon before jumping on the Metro to visit Newcastle Quayside.

Things started well, with a pleasant Metro ride and walk down to the lovely Riverside Park at Hebburn. As I steadily plodded downstream, I began to realise that I’d been a tad over ambitious with my schedule. Firstly, although I had my maps with me, some places I’d planned to visit turned out to be hopeless for photography, or located within private property. All of these were at the end of long, steep roads, of course. So I’d retrace my steps to the main road and keep going. Naturally, I had some pleasant surprises as well – footpaths would appear from nowhere, and following some of them brought me to a couple of fantastic locations. But it all took a lot longer than I anticipated, and it didn’t help that that it was a very humid and sticky day, even with the fresh wind blowing in at exposed places – by exposed, I naturally mean anywhere that I set up the tripod.

Drilling Rig supply ships are serviced on theTyne.

Around the area of Tyne Dock, things got busy, as this is the last remaining area of the once thriving cargo docks. Access is predictably denied to the public, so after a very long walk I jumped onto another Metro once I finally found the well-hidden station at Bede, and alighted at South Shields.

The river ferry is located a mere five minutes away from the station, and the all-day Metro ticket I’d bought for a mere £3.90 was also valid on the boat. This is a quick and easy method of crossing the Tyne, and after a 10 minute cruise I alighted at North Shields. I was a good couple of hours adrift on my timetable by now, so decided to miss out Tynemouth and just nip down to the Fish Quay for some pictures. Then the long hike to film from the north side of the river began, which really was a major disappointment. Vast amounts of former dockland are now in the hands of developers, so the whole area was fenced off. I went down several long, steep roads that looked very promising on Google maps, as they led to old staiths and docks – but frustratingly, all of them ended up against big fences with bigger gates and threatening signs.


This magnificent pub is one of very few buildings still standing in the Percy Main riverside area - but I suspect its days are numbered. Given the vast number of unaffordable houses and apartments springing up in this area, surely it would make financial sense to restore this building and use it for its intended purpose? Although when you see the size of mortagage repayments, a pint's out of the question...

Time was ticking on at an alarming rate, and I realised that there was now no chance of getting to Newcastle Quays for a photoshoot and then back home in time for tea - I did say earlier that mothers regard you as being 12 years old, and that includes getting home in time for tea! I’d booked tea at a specific time, because I needed to drive back to South Shields in the evening to photograph a departing cruise ship – I mentioned before that my schedule was a bit on the ambitious side …

Rather than rush the job and spoil it, I decided to simply take the Metro into Newcastle, change trains and proceed directly to Sunderland on another one. My legs were protesting about all the walking anyway, and hobbling around the Quayside didn’t appeal. My initial plan had been to leave Sunderland and return to Grantham during Monday morning; I reckoned that if I waited until the evening I could then use the extra day to catch up.

Consequently, I made it to home on time, and was able to get my dinner while it was hot. A quick cuppa, then off to South Shields again. The weather, which up till now had been very pleasant if rather windy and humid, decided that as it was Bank Holiday, we needed some rain. What happened next depends on where you live in the UK. In the North East, we got what we call ‘a spot of weather.’ Londoners would say they got flooded out in a torrential rainstorm. But did that stop me filming? No way! I’ve got this far, so I’ll keep going. I had my raincoat, so set up the tripod close to the car on St Hilda’s Bridge as this commanded a great view of the Northumbrian Quay where the ship, Athena, was berthed.

Cruise ship Athena, pictured earlier in the day from Custom House.

It was simply a matter of waiting for the right moment, then jump out of the car, attach camera to tripod and shoot. As Athena was moving downstream quite slowly, I decided to leap back to the car, and race down to the pier at the river mouth. I say race; obviously I drove courteously and carefully, observing all the road signs and traffic lights and keeping well within the posted speed limits. Would you expect anything less? Actually, I had to keep it moderate as my mother had come with me to see the ship, and I didn’t want any tutting coming from the passenger seat. I must have driven reasonably well as there were only two intakes of breath, and that bollard has always been at that strange angle. Really.

I dumped the car in the nearest available carpark and legged it onto the pier. A pair of fishermen encouraged my rapid progress, “Gan along bonny lad, be quick or yer’ll miss it!” Another lightning set up and I banged off some film as Athena cruised sedately by – I’m sure Spielberg doesn’t work like this. The marathon dash took its toll, and as I packed up the camera I hobbled back past the fisherman. “Did ya gerrit, mate?”
“Oh aye, but I can tell you, mate – I’m getting too bloody old for this lark!”

I have to say that in my younger day I would regularly make a mad dash to photograph a train and try to beat an interesting loco from one location to another – but I never dreamed that by the time I reached the Grumpy Years, I’d be running after a bloody ship!

The Bridge on the River Tyne

Monday was therefore to become catch-up day. Naturally the first task was to get through another full English breakfast. Suitably fortified, I set off on the short drive to Ryhope, just south of Sunderland, in order to visit The Ryhope Engines Museum. This is based at Ryhope Pumping Station, which was built in 1868 to supply water to the Sunderland area. The station ceased operation in 1967 after 100 years of continuous use.

The Museum is now regarded as one of the finest industrial monuments in the North East of England and is a fascinating, if little known, place to visit. Although the station no longer pumps water, the two 100 horsepower beam engines are kept in working order by volunteer members of the Ryhope Engines Trust, and steamed periodically for visitors. In fact, steaming takes place only about five times a year, so it was a huge stroke of luck that I’d chosen this weekend to visit.

In addition to the beam engines are three Lancashire boilers of 1908, two of which are in regular use, a blacksmith's forge, a waterwheel, numerous steam engines and pumps, a replica plumber's shop, waterworks accessories such as depth recorders, and many items concerned with the distribution and uses of water in home and industry.


I was principally concerned with filming the steam beam engines, and decided to pop in for opening time at 10 for some quick shots before carrying on with my programme. But did it work like that? I was first to arrive, which was great for getting exterior shots without McFamillies getting in the way. The friendly volunteers who crew the museum on open days said they were getting up steam, as the engines would start around 11 a.m. They suggested going to the café to pass the time, which was an excellent idea, and I pottered around the place as there was so much to see. In the end I stayed until midday; everyone was so friendly and informative that it was a shame to leave. But needs must, so I drove home, dumped the car and walked to Sunderland to take a Metro so that I could carry out the planned filming of the Newcastle Quays.


This area has undergone what must be one of the best-executed city regeneration programmes in the country. When I was growing up, the quays were falling into disuse and neglect was all around. Now the old industrial buildings have been restored and redeveloped as flats, offices and restaurants, whilst brand new buildings have filled the gaps. The overall appearance is superb, and really enhances the riverside. It’s not often that old and new architecture can sit side-by-side, but Newcastle has managed it. Both sides of the quays have an excellent bus service that connects with the Metro stations within Newcastle and Gateshead, so getting around was simplicity itself – far more relaxing than trying to drive and park up.


I had about an hour at the Quays before taking another Metro all the way down to Tynemouth, which was part of yesterday’s aborted programme. The area is quite high up where the river runs out into the North Sea, and has some commanding views of shipping arriving and departing from the Tyne. I wanted some general shots of the area, but in particular, the cruise ship Boudicca was departing at 5 p.m., closely followed by a DFDS ferry to Ijmuiden and it would make some great footage. I scouted out my chosen location, and had about an hour to wait. No worries, time for a cuppa while watching the goings on in the river. Once again, as if on cue, the weather had other ideas. While I’d been waking around, the nice pretty fluffy white clouds had gradually been elbowed aside by a huge black monster that hovered over Tynemouth like something from War of The Worlds. I knew what was coming, and legged it. I made it as far as Roy’s Café in the main street and watched as a monster downpour was unleashed. The rain was heavy enough for South Shields pier opposite me to disappear completely. This really was quite a spot of weather. I wanted to film it, but only had 10 minutes of space left on the SD card in the camera and needed that for the ship departures – always assuming I could see them leave, of course.

The cloud dumped the annual rainfall of Norway over Tynemouth in 15 minutes, and then got bored. It ceased as quickly as it had started, and then set off over the North Sea to annoy Holland. After a coffee and a green cake thing with lots of cream, I set off back to my vantage point to see the ships. The sky was still threatening, as can be seen here, but this was a baby compared to what had just passed over. Well, I’d come this far to see these ships, so I wasn’t giving in now! As it turned out, I was able to film both ships and was on my way back to the Metro when the rain returned – and this time, it returned with a vengeance.

The gleaming white paint of departing Boudicca contrasts strongly with the leaden skies above. This was a 40 minute break between spots of weather - I suffer for my art.

Overall I was delighted with my weekend of filming. I’d got most of what I’d come for and a lot more besides. It was a fascinating visit, and no doubt I’ll be returning soon - but in the meantime, it must be Tyne to say goodbye!