Cooks and diggers

Today's snap is a 1976 Becky Sanderson (Spencer as was) shot of cooks and diggers at Ullenwood: L to R, Arwel Barrett avec beard, Ken Fussell, Simon Mercer, Sandy and Dave who was Ken's fellow cook.

This brings C-H-M to the culinary tip of the week. Dr Ferris asked for one that might not involve eating industrial quantities of poached eggs. Mindful that Dr Mrs Dr Ferris, a.k.a Dr Lynne Bevan, is a keen fan of fish as well as being lithics and small finds specialist, there are two fish related tips this week. First, don't eat fish in a restaurant on Monday. Fishing boats tend not to go out on the weekend and fish served on Monday has probably been around for a day or two. Second, when preparing mackerel for cooking, trim off the fins but leave on the dorsal fin. When the fish is perfectly cooked the dorsal fin will easily come off when gently pulled so it's a good way of telling it's done. Oh and put enough sugar in to make the gooseberry sauce not too tart.

Redressing the balance ...

Mr Boden feels he has had enough of being unfairly leant on:

"My dear chap, you've been very industrious and the photos are splendid. Obviously you realise that references to myself frequently leaning on spades, shovels etc are a myth based on the requirement to construct the last line of a song verse which rhymed and scanned, and this has become confused with the reality of the fact that nobody has ever produced photographic evidence of such a thing taking place. And if I ever for a brief moment did any spade leaning at all, it was because I might have learnt such a technique from the young maestro himself, as evidenced here in a fine shape being thrown on an Institute dig in Sussex."

What a gem: it's the beret that makes it for me ...

On Simon Mercer's cutting in 1976

I think Becky Spencer must have been in the Girl Guides when she was little:  because here she is prepared for every form of weather possibility.  She is wearing a bikini but she's also got a green jumper tied round her waist, as well as gloves and a very fetching floppy hat.  You weren't going to catch this young woman out if it rained or if it shone.  I can't remember the name of the lad with a headband -- I don't know if Becky can help?  He is demonstrating a digging technique which I'd forgotten about, namely the excavation of a feature, probably a post-hole, whilst lying on one's front protected by a piece of foam rubber. I'd forgotten about the bits of foam rubber but they used to be quite keenly sought after because they made digging whilst prone much more comfortable for entirely obvious reasons.  I have a hunch that the left upper arm visible on the right of the photograph belongs to Mike Gething.

Dr Ferris reminisces ...

Iain writes to say "Your recent posting of a picture of Simon Mercer on your blog was most welcome. His first appearance, I think. Simon was a good friend when we were at the Institute of Archaeology and over a couple of seasons at Crickley. He had a really surreal sense of humour and was a very kind and generous man. Simon seemed very shy on first meeting him, but, as I'm sure Crickley Hill Man remembers, he soon came out of himself after a few pints of cider. Previous mention has been made on the blog of the Institute digging song 'Four and Twenty Diggers', also sung at Crickley, and you may recall that Simon's verse ran as follows: 'Four and twenty diggers came down from Gordon Square, and when the dig was over they wondered who'd been there. Simon Mercer he was there, late for work again, we're glad the sale of cider stops at half past ten.' 

 

As to the tale of Crickley Hill Man's teenage fall from grace under the tutelage of Simon, Dave Southwood and Robert Roberts, painted as the story of a sentimental education tainted by evil mentors, I think the seeds of your descent into a life of fun, drinking and romance were probably sown long before your first appearance on the hill."  Steady on Dr Ferris or you'll be hearing from my solicitors ...

CHM's first supervisor: Mr Simon Mercer

Crickley Hill Man was a sixteen year old choirboy with an engaging mop of golden curls when he was placed under the benevolent eye of Simon Mercer, one of the London Institute of Archaeology contingent at Crickley.  Mr Mercer, whose photograph appears above, courtesy of Mr John Boden, taught me how to use a trowel, what to do with a catbasher, what to do with a Killaspray, and advised me on matters of the heart. He also showed me the way to the Air Balloon and once there allowed me to buy him a pint of GL cider.  He also introduced me to a man called Southwood and another man called Robert Roberts.  All innocence lost, my hair began to fall out almost immediately and I never sang "Oh for the wings of a dove" again.  What I was taught to sing instead cannot be published on a family blog ...

Dr Ferris & I hope not to hear from your solicitor ...

Dr Ferris chides: "I hope Crickley Hill Man can excuse my constant pedantry, but I think the recently-posted photo of Becky and Mike is from 1977.

 

Mike, a very pleasant chap and a very good digger I recall, was also known as 'The Bolton Wanderer', for no other reason than he hailed from Bolton. Other good Crickley nicknames, or at least ones that Crickley Hill Man can print without fear of prosecution, were 'Biggles' (Dave Southwood), 'Mike the Whale' (already referred to on your site), 'The Tipton Slasher' (not Robert Roberts, but another Tipton digger named after the famous local pugilist) and, best and most obtuse of all, 'Training' who came from, I think, Derby but first appeared wearing a sweatshirt with TRAINING written across the chest. I don't think I ever knew his real name but he was amenable enough to be generally referred to by everyone as 'Training' and indeed enjoyed almost minor celebrity status because of this. You already have posted a photo of 'Training' on the blog.

 

Becky Spencer, really Carole Ann Spencer, came from Skipton and was at Crickley in 1976 and 1977. She went on to study archaeology at Cardiff, I think. She was a very charismatic character who in 1976 had had the opportunity to see many of the early Punk bands play in the north and in that respect was very much ahead of the rest of us in knowing what was going on musically at the time, probably with the exception of Simon Mercer." 

From summer 1976 ...

Iain's memory of the Sports Day posted here caused me to find this photo of Becky Spencer, with whom in the wheelbarrow he won the race. Here she is with Mike Gething, both happily pausing from their labours for a minute. The Neolithic ditch and bank is in the background behind them.

The speck of foliage visible on the right hand side of the picture is, I think, on a hornbeam in the shadow of which I put a trowel in the ground for the very first time under the kindly eye of Simon Mercer. On my second day I found what I now know to be a perfect flint arrowhead. I wasn't completely sure what it was so I showed it to a man I was sure knew more about these things than I did, Mr Robert Roberts.

The Son of Tipton's reply went like this "******* Hell! You ******* lucky *******! I've been digging for ******* years and I've never ******* found one of those.  You jammy ***! You turn up like the ******* fairy on the top of the ******* Christmas tree, put your brand new ******* trowel in the ****** ground ******* once and ******* pull that out! Why did I ******* give you that ******* strip to dig?"

I could tell he was pleased that I'd found the arrowhead.  My vocabulary grew by the hour.  I was pleased I'd found it too - I've never found another one!

An historical uncertainty from the Ferris archive ...

"In reply to Crickley Hill Man's elsan-based brain teaser I can only reply 'I'm not sure.' Exposure to the blue chemicals in my formative years may in fact have addled my brain. The Elsan Song was also performed on the Institute of Archaeology's West Heath Common training dig in 1974 or 1975 but whether it arrived there via Crickley or at Crickley via West Heath I don't know. You may recall that there was an Institute student contingent at Crickley from roughly 1974-1978 (at various times myself, Jeff Beech, John Boden, Simon Mercer, Louisa Gidney, Robert Roberts and Sara Roberts) who also had another fine musical number sung to the tune of 'Four and Twenty Virgins'-'Four and twenty diggers came down from Gordon Square and when the dig was over they wondered who'd been there' etc. It was from this comic meisterwerk that the lines of 'sniffer Boden he was there and he was getting paid for brandishing his Pentax and leaning on his spade', already quoted on your blog, originated."