One of the Spyway walks was to Pekoe's Grave on the heath beyond Nine Barrow Down.
But why was it called this?
Theories so far are that Pekoe was a racehorse or a dog.
Does anybody know the full story?
If so, please leave details in a comment (below) or email eye2eye222@aol.com
Thanks to Douglas Ryder for his contribution. All others are welcome.
Tuesday 20 November 2012
Friday 9 November 2012
Friday 12 October 2012
Canine Classics
I only remember one master by name: Commander Lewis, who
was ex-Navy and taught Maths and I think a bit of Science. Another whom I can
recall in looks but not by name was an elderly man who taught
Classics in a small classroom on the attic floor. He had a face like a Basset Hound: very large drooping ears and a thin sagging face and
jowls. He also had a bit of a squint and a very bent index finger. When he
pointed at a boy to stand up and answer a question three would get up, uncertain
just whom he meant.
Friday 13 July 2012
Wednesday 11 July 2012
Wartime memories
Sleeping in the boot room cellars as an air raid measure; occasional use of the shelter on the playing fields.
We nearly all studied aircraft recognition and passed various grading tests up to Master Observer.
Davy Escape practice became more frequent as war began but dropped off when dormitories moved downstairs.
A stream of Whitley bombers progressing overhead to the first raid on Italy.
Bombed twice at night: first time, a group of us were in the top south east corner attic room, floor jumped twice, dust everywhere, we belted madly downstairs to the boot room. The brothers went out with torches, initial thoughts the tennis court, next morning two craters in the field to the south east.
Second time, I was in the dormitory on the south west ground floor corner: windows blown far away. Stray bombers discarding load or maybe an attempt on Leeson. We were frightened.
Individual butter dishes (and jam jars) for rationing.
The cold winter of 1940 when the walls outside the bathroom were coated with icicles and there was no morning dip for a while.
The death of Christopher Kent from suspected meningitis.
Tom Haddrell forever extracting stone from what became the lower cricket ground. Earth heaped along the south side of the top field. We built a Maginot line out of it with trenches and dugouts and fought the Germans.
Away cricket match at Hillcrest dismissing them for 4 (including 2 extras).
Wednesday 4 July 2012
Monday 2 July 2012
1943
Sleeping Beauty:
CLICK TO ENLARGE
Top pic (l to r): Jeremy Sturges, David Gullett/Gullick, Ian Kerr, David Gough, Peter Sturges.
Lower pic: Witch: Jeremy Shaw, Cradle: 'Happy', Queen: Jeremy Sturges, Prince: Peter Sturges, Good Fairy: Tom Barnard.
Thursday 31 May 2012
May an OMH old boy intrude?
I came across this wonderful blog after googling Spyway School. Why? I was at your old enemy The Old Malthouse (1959-1963) and thought I'd google other local Purbeck schools. It seems that Spyway is no longer a prep school just like OMH - what a shame. My only memory of your place was that it seemed much more spartan than OMH, the boys were tougher and (for some extraordinary reason) thinner than us, particularly during cold, wet and windswept 1st XV rugger matches which we invariably lost. I never realised that you had access to Dancing Ledge as well - I thought that that was ours and ours alone. We also had to swim naked which, I'm now convinced, somewhat excited the OMH headmaster. However, I think we usually beat you at cricket.
Thanks for all your memories which, but for names and places, so closely resemble mine.
James Osmond
Thanks for all your memories which, but for names and places, so closely resemble mine.
James Osmond
The Railway Children
I was at Spyway from winter 1973 until it closed, after Mr Eric's death, in 1976.
I won't forget the roller skate mayhem in the barn, the "yobbos" firing air gun pellets at us from 'The Drove', the threat of going to join the school at the end of the road (the Old Malthouse), where I would have to wear a green cap with a little gold star.
I shall also never forget the food: I shall never eat porridge again.
Sunday afternoon tea, after roaming as far as Corfe Castle, seems unimanaginable in today's "'elf and safety" society. And what about the Friday evening treat of the model railway room at the top of the stairs on the right?
(Rupert M-T)
CLICK TO ENLARGE
I won't forget the roller skate mayhem in the barn, the "yobbos" firing air gun pellets at us from 'The Drove', the threat of going to join the school at the end of the road (the Old Malthouse), where I would have to wear a green cap with a little gold star.
I shall also never forget the food: I shall never eat porridge again.
Sunday afternoon tea, after roaming as far as Corfe Castle, seems unimanaginable in today's "'elf and safety" society. And what about the Friday evening treat of the model railway room at the top of the stairs on the right?
(Rupert M-T)
CLICK TO ENLARGE
Tuesday 8 May 2012
The Blues
As for uniform, we all wore tabbed garters,
in dark blue. In my time we had no blazers or caps I think. If I am right here,
that might have been a hangover from wartime rationing. I do however remember,
rationing or no, the very handsome Billings and Edmonds overcoat in a
brown-and-fawn herring bone tweed with a dark chocolate collar. I can only
remember wearing this sumptuous garment once at the beginning of each term, as
we gathered at Waterloo to board our reserved coach of
the all-Pullman Bournemouth Belle.
Cold baths
I shall never forget the initial shock of cold baths as soon as you
woke up in the morning usually in the summer months, when a prefect would
push you in up to your neck and hold you down.
Then a long walk, which seemed miles
for a six year old, down to the gates at the end of the drive and back (strictly
NO running) and finally 12 breathing exercises which could not be rushed.
All
this BEFORE breakfast - I don't believe human rights existed in those days!
I remember
Suddenly being faced with your memories of your prep school is
quite unnerving and uplifting at the same time.
Memories. I have a few.
I remember that we used to heat the classrooms with log fires
and that one November around Guy Fawkes night I put a firework onto one of the
fires in Sheridan's classroom. It blew out and burned my corduroys badly and
Geoffrey Warner punished me by making me wear shorts for the rest of term.
I remember Halloween and how we used to bob for apples.
I remember Dancing Ledge and how we would go and swim there. A
few years ago I took my children there to show them on one of the hottest days
(31C) and we had a great swim.
I remember walking to the end of the drive and back again and
doing twelve breathers outside Eric's room.
I remember fire escape practice on these funny things which would
lower you from the upstairs windows.
I remember driving to cricket fixtures in Eric's Lagonda.
I remember Geoffrey sharpening his pencils.
I remember all the Enid Blyton books in the library.
I remember secretly fancying Henrietta Warner.
I remember playing a game of rugby and we came off the pitch to
be told Eric had died.
I remember Anthony Daly, who was killed in the Hyde Park Bomb. I
worked in the Hard Rock Cafe Piccadilly at the time. I was walking to work and
was outside the Hyde Park Hotel at the time it went off. I jumped a mile and
was so shaken that I was let off work for the day.
I remember Jan Kent being killed in a motorcycle accident.
I remember watching the "Rumble in the Jungle" Boxing
match with Ed Benthall in the cook Marisole's room late at night.
I remember going for walks up on Nine Barrow Down and playing British Bulldog along the cliffs.
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