Middleton, Littlehampton and the fine Summer of 1959

The summer of 1959 was record-breakingly warm and sunny.  I was 15 and came home from boarding school on 24^th July and according to my diary, the sun shone every single day for that whole holiday.  The loveliest thing was that the sea was not only beautifully warm but day after day, it was as flat and still as glass.  It seemed to swell and roll in almost imperceptibly at high tide. Even Dad had a daily dip after work using his strange and rather awkward Trudgen stroke; - breaststroke legs and a sidestroke like crawl with only one arm which he’d probably learned on holidays in South Wales during his childhood in the 1890s.

That summer was idyllic in other ways too.  There were lots of families with teenagers staying in Bognor and Felpham for the summer.  Cheap foreign travel had yet to come.  We formed a group of teenagers who idled around together each day, swimming, riding our bikes, playing tennis with trips to the cinema in Bognor.  We also had a small, informal party at each other's houses most evenings.  Very innocent affairs; bopping to Living Doll, smooching mildly to the Platters with Smoke Gets in Your Eyes – no alcohol – just the odd surreptitious fag outside for a few of the boys.  However, we rediscovered the exciting childhood game of Sardines which now became thrilling….all squashing up together in a tiny room full of coats.

        We loved these parties which popped up most evenings and particularly those held at our friend David Purley’s house by the greensward at Middleton.  His father Charlie had founded the very successful Lec Refrigeration Company and we all admired the huge fridge at their home with the shelves on its doors loaded with Coca Cola bottles.  Tizer was the most glamorous drink we’d had until then and you definitely can’t count those sickly sweet Britvic bottled fruit juices.

David was intensely energetic and mature for his 14 years at that time.  The family had their own speedboat and we learned to water ski in turn with David towing us. One early September day was, unsurprisingly dry, sunny and warm.  A group of five of us met David on the beach and thought it would be fun to take the boat to Littlehampton.   No one dashed home to tell their parents.  Not one of us had a handy waterproof bag with a bottle of water, emergency snack, Factor 50, sun hat, life jacket, phone with portable charger, change of clothes. No, we just squeezed in the boat and skimmed over the still, glassy water past Middleton, past Elmer Sands, on towards the precious undeveloped fragment of grassy dunes at Clymping and the golf links to enter the slightly choppy waters of the Arun estuary at Littlehampton.  We puttered up the river for a little but became bored of reed banks and flat meadows shimmering in the heat haze so turned back to Littlehampton where we tied the boat neatly on the embankment railings by the funfair and nipped ashore via a handy ladder.  Not a harbour master in sight….

David adored the buzz, speed and excitement at the funfair and was generous with his money so we had turns on most of the rides.  I’m hopeless at funfairs; everything makes me feel sick, dizzy or terrified. Heaven knows how I survived that crazy, rattling big dipper ride which comes thundering down the final steep hill to the finish where you are utterly convinced that there’ll be a fatal head-on crash with the carriages charging down towards you from the opposite direction.  How was I to know that it was only our own reflection in a giant mirror?  Maybe having Boyfriend of the Moment at one’s side helped dispel these terrors?

David then took us to a cafe for a delicious tea after which we were faintly dismayed to find that the little speedboat boat, so neatly secured on those railings earlier, was now dangling down the wall with the shallow channel of the river flowing beyond the mud of the estuary.  No one had given a thought to the falling tide and no one thought to find a phone box to reassure our parents that we were all safe and just having a fun day out. But it was 1959, we were immortal, the pressure was high, the air warm and the water calm, so all was well.  The tide inched in, we retrieved the boat and sped home into the sunset where a knot of worried parents was waiting for us on Middleton beach.  They were so relieved at our safe homecoming that all thoughts of anger and punishment quickly vanished as they hugged us.

        David went on to become a Formula 1 racing driver.  He was awarded the GM for attempting to pull his friend Roger Williamson from a blazing car and later survived a horrendous crash which ended his own career.  He loved flying and was killed aged only 40 when his aerobatic plane crashed into the sea at Bognor.  I often look back on that beautiful summer and that particular day when we all spent time enjoying his company and his generosity.

The wooden big dipper at Littlehampton 1940s 

The Arun Estuary at Littlehampton 1950s CFrancis Frith

My Five year Diary - every day recorded between 1957-1961

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