Tuesday, 12 May 2020

Stranger On The Shore. By Acker Bilk-One Of My Favourite Things.


Stranger On The Shore. By Acker Bilk.

It seem topical and not hard to imagine the title of this tune in today's Isolated climate of May 2020.

Being born into a slum clearance terrace house that was not deemed fit for habitation, as a family we got moved to a modern council estate on the outskirts of Liverpool.
Times were hard there was no money around and the decline of the docks saw a demise of industry due to the geographical change and containerization.
In this very poor climate it would be easy to fall in to all the traps around me.
During the 1970's times were really tough but I got myself out and worked. Firstly as a milk lad helping deliver milk on our estate for 15p a day. I saved up.
Then I got a job as a paper lad and was able to earn a little money.
All my well earned money went on clothes, as my parents could not afford a lot....and fishing tackle.
Discovering fishing was a lifesaver for me. I joined a newly formed club on the estate and we would go off to these amazing locations in the countryside, of a Sunday, mostly, in North Wales.
I can recall the first glistening Perch I caught on a freezing Sunday morn. It was magical. It was small. And the fact that it jumped on my hook didn't matter.
I had caught a fish.
The excitement of hunting these monster fish we never caught was enthralling.

It was my escape. Some of the kids at school called me Findus or Captain Haddock but I did not care. It was they who did not understand. Many of them would get into serious trouble. While I stayed out of it.
I asked my parents for a radio for Christmas and a small leather cased portable radio that took a single 9V battery was found wrapped up on Christmas day.
It seems hard to imagine in this day and age, how something as simple as having your own pocket radio could change your life but it did. I carried it everywhere.
Listening and learning. Searching for the limited number of stations that would introduce me to new music.
During the course fishing closed season we charrabanged on our old fashioned smiley faced coach up to The lake district. The coach doubled up as a meeting place during the week, a sort of youth club.
 It took hours of motorway.
Then around a corner as if landing on another planet there it was, The Lake. The excitement of seeing Ullswater lake, several miles long simmering in the beautiful luscious green land still lives with me today.
Me and my fishing friend got off the coach we would be picked up early evening for the journey home. For a day we were free. Fishing we went.
It may have been the wrong spot we seemed to be on a shallow gravel shingle and the ledge for the lake drop off was so far out that there was not even enough line on my reel with which to cast out far enough.This was a bad spot.





















Ingenuity was needed. I emptied the contents of my fishing basket on the bank and waded out with my rod until the water came confortably up to the top of my wellies. I sunk my basket and loaded it with rocks so it would not float away, and closed the lid and sat on it.
 I was 300 yards away from the bank. In 15 inches of water.
I took out of my pocket, my box, of tanlged worms and baited up, on a size 14 spade end hook, casting comfortably over the shelf and hopefully into the range of some monster trout.

I turned around and I was so far from the bank amidst the shimmering silver glade of water. I felt as if I was floating on silver ice. All around me was calm. The beauty moved me, and to this day I can remember the rolling hills foreshadowing that crystal mass of becalmed lake. There was no wind. It was beautiful. I felt safe and calm and alone. The silence of the lake deafened me with its majesty.
I felt like a speckle, a tiny little piece in the huge jigsaw of life.

I took out my coat pocket my radio and tuned it into the only channel I could pick up. Crackling away I finally balanced it in and on the radio as if by magic came the beautiful sound of....... Stranger On The Shore.
I had heard it before but today the beautiful clarinet solo hit me like a log, and as I looked around here I was.
The Stranger On The Shore.
It was very emotional. I may have shed a tear as I sat there looking around me at the sheer beauty of the place. It was a shimmering surreal experience that I have never forgotten.
The most beautiful isolation of my life.
Away from it all, free of everything in the wilderness of the deep. I was floating on air, or walking on water.
In no time the beautiful tone filtered away and I was forever moved in stillness.

Until my rod tipped and up from the deep cane a two pound eel.
This was the worst place you could wish to catch this slithering slimy half fish half snake, that you can never grab properly.
And all the time it wants to bite you.
We were always scared of eels for some reason they would wrap around your arm like an Anaconda. I didn't want to catch them.
Getting it back to the bank after the cold water slowly slipped over the top of my boots could have easily ruined my day but at least it was a fish caught in the fishing competition of life.
It took me an age to unhook the wriggling slithering monster.

That song has never left me and even through my musical journey into Reggae, Soul, Punk, Joy Division and many other genre's I would always have to pause to have my soul pierced by the beauty of this old fashioned song that never left my heart.
It was something you didn't admit to when your mates were buying Sex Pistols records called Never Mind The B****cks, but I still recalled that day every time it was heard it.
Twenty five years later at a massive street market in Lille, by now I seem to have escaped all those beartraps of life and I am a antique dealer. With a shop in a arcade that Pevsner the architectural historian described as making Burlington Arcade in London, look pedestrian.
There staring at me on the floor amongst a load of junk is a shiny black ebony and silver keyed ......clarinet.
A beautiful instrument, and it seemed to call me. I went over and picked it up and asked the price which was the equivalent of £50. It was old, but I bought it for £35 or the equivalent in Francs.
It was like as if it called out to me. Buy me. As if I got a clarion call.
As if I remembered the tune I grew up with. That old fashioned tune by Acker Bilk who had become a caricature of trad jazz, even though my favorite song was without definition, it was part of that era.
It was a beautiful tune.
Now coming from that council estate in Liverpool and not having an education I have had to use my brains, and my brain is telling me,
“You can't play a note, don't even begin” So I ignored my own advice and showed it to a bloke who come in the shop.
“Have you got a reed for it” he said
“What” I replied.
Ignorant to anything about it. He brought a reed in the next day and clipped it into the mouthpiece. By chance he was an old trad jazzer.
“Can you play Stranger On The Shore” I said.
He did. It was as surreal as my early experience. I wanted to learn it.
I developed a way of writing down the notes by sketching on paper the holes of the clarinet and coloring in the ones that my fingers would close. To form a note.
I soon realized that the note C was, three colored in dots, and D was two. Six was low G and all open was the G in the octave above.
It was like learning a new language. But I like a challenge.
And so began the longest journey of my life. Having no musical experience whatso-ever. At forty years of age. I decided I was going to take up the clarinet. 
Learning to read from the stave was a long and lonely task. You can't buy it. you have to keep on keeping on. Barrier after barrier was broken down until I could read a basic tune.
 I felt that my fingers needed breaking and resetting again as they had formed, not as a musician at all, at all.
Every day I worked an hour at least for years. I learnt the tune I heard as a child and it was an achievement like nothing else I had done before.
I was now a musician of sorts. Formed a band even. wrote out scores.

I stopped and thought one day why do you like that old fashioned tune so much?
I learnt that when I was still a baby, it was the theme tune to a series on BBC. It was written by Acker Bilk and named after his daughter Jenny shortly after she was born. He gifted her all the royalties. It went to no One in America and no two in Britain. And in May 1969 the crew of Apollo 10 took it with them, into their own isolation, to the moon. It was played at the funeral of a dear friend who knew I played it.
I have often seen Acker Bilk on TV in daft hats and striped waistcoats , in old films with names like Its Trad Dad or similar, man he could play.
I learnt it was the second longest running record in the charts, ever, or the hit parade as it used to be called.
 Fifty two weeks in continuity. It made number two.
It wasn't just me that liked it. They played The Cavern Club.
Then The Beatles came along and it all changed.
But you cant keep a beautiful tune down and here I am several decades later still talking about it.

I was honored to have been invited to join The Antiques Roadshow team in 2015 and its fair to say I kept myself away from all those traps that lurked in wait.
I educated myself but it was all due to a work ethic to aquire my fishing tackle, and the need to get out of town, to be, even just for a few hours, that Stranger On The Shore.

In these difficult times with everyone in lockdown, I can put my licquorice stick together and play....from memory......Stranger On The Shore.
That I learnt by dots.
And I am transferred back to the Cumbrian lakes, in isolation, on a shingle shore, without a care.
And today as I play, several decades later a tear slips down my cheek, again.

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Tuesday, 21 April 2020

Bathing Venus-Piece of the Week

More widely known as The Crouching Venus. 
This study, after the antique and was cast mid 19th century.
The Crouching Venus has been excavated on numerous different Roman sites, in Italy and in France. There are slightly differing versions. But one thing that never changes is the fact that the study captures Venus at her bath, startled, and she very often is depicted with her arm slightly raised to cover her breasts.
 She has been an inspiration to sculptors and artists for centuries.
There are, among others, examples in The Louvre Paris, The Uffizi in Florence and The British Museum has an example.
She is Hellenistic in style and has influenced so many artists such as Rubens who painted an 'Allegory' 1612-13, after he saw The Lely Venus then in The Gonzaga collection at Mantua.

This example bears its foundry seal.
Bronze. Beautiful Chocolate Patina.
 34cm high
 £2850   See More Here
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Sunday, 5 April 2020

Art Nouveau Corner Cabinet-Piece of the Week.



Its an age since I purchased this Art Nouveau Corner cabinet in the South of France at a trade fair.
 Its fragile alright. The work that has gone into it is unbelievable.
 The fretwork is so delicate in places that I dared not move it for ages. 
So it stayed under the stairs at my previous address for so long that I forgot about it. 
When moving house a few more pieces become loose but it was all there. 
So I got my tools out and restored it. 
I had kept all the bits and put them in the drawer, so it was just a case of regluing them back into place.
 I felt guilty that I had forgotten about this amazing piece of Art Nouveau that has a look of Henry Van de Velde, a hint of Guimard but is probally school of Nancy if the location in which I bought it is any indication.
I remembered when I purchased it, right as it came Au Cul Du Camion....right out the back of a wagon within five minutes of the start of the market.
 I grabbed it.
 Dealers fell all over it but I had hold of it tight, I was not going to let it go and the guy who owned it did a deal, looking bewildered with all the excitement it had generated, thinking he had undersold it, which he had. Two guys asked me if I wanted to sell it and how much I paid for it right away.





It breaks down into two parts and when I was carrying it back to the van an Italian bloke tried to buy it off me.
 "Style Liberty, Style Liberty" he kept saying. 


The Italian call Art Nouveau, Style Liberty after the shop in Regent Street opened by Arthur Lazenby Liberty. I refused and eventually I wound my way back up to the North West of England with it rattling about worrying me every time I turned a corner. There it remained for a decade or more. 
It dried out a bit, as it would, so I had to reglue the joints. Its times like this that my apprenticeship training comes in really handy. It is made of two different woods the carcasse of it being a softwood and most of the fretwork edges are made of oak so they are stronger and easier to carve.
This detailed restoration was needed when I bought it and considering its over a hundred years old its done well to last.
 But with all the work now carried out and a coat of wax its now looking great.
 But now..............................

I dont want to move it again. 
I wonder how long it will sit in the corner for this time. 
Well I can think of worse things to have in the corner of your room.

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Thursday, 2 April 2020

The Antiques Roadshow venues for 2020

This year to keep the public and our specialists safe. We request that you contact Antiques Roadshow on the BBC website or through the links below and if you wish to share your story.

The Antiques Roadshow venues for 2020

Following government guidelines for filming at our postponed venues
We’re unlikely to be able to film on the scale we are used to, but we are exploring the option of inviting a small number of guests with items, and our experts to future Roadshows.
To make this work we really need to know in advance about the items you were planning to bring along.

Follow the links below to let us know about the items you want to show us.

I Look forward to seeing you at Windermere Jetty, Bodnant Gardens, Culzean Castle and
Newby Hall. These are Exceptional times. 


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Tuesday, 10 March 2020

Church of St Mark Brithdir-One Of My Favourite Things.


I was recently asked if I knew about an Arts and Crafts Church, in a village that I had been driving past for some time and unfortunatly I had to declare I not seen it. 
I was told that it was hidden back from the road behind some Rhododendrums. 
So I decided to make more of an effort. I almost felt guilty that I had not seen it.
Its not everyones cup of tea, that is spending time, studying architecture but it keeps me out of trouble and its something I have done since I was young.
I stopped the car and opened a stop gate designed to let a single file of people enter, and keep sheep out, and there it was. 
My first thought was whats all the fuss about though it had an interesting bellfry and a rather heavy overhang. 
Then I notice the rather unimposing door was rather small so it is obvious the entrance was round the back...or the front as the road entrance was not the main.
The first thing I notice is the brackets for the gutters being wrought out of two pieces of iron, twisted, leaving a patterned heart as decoration.
The heart was a symbol of the Arts and Crafts period that is forever linked to C.F.A Voysey but was adopted by the legions of architects and designers around the late Victorian and early Edwardian period.
Built of a heavy local stone its long roof with Aberllefenni slate gently slopes down to just above your head as you enter the gates of the porch. It reminds me of the signature roof style of Herbert Lucknorth who designed many houses in North Wales.









Pulling and twisting a delightful wrought iron handle the door opens to reveal a Font right in front of you, almost in the way. Its obvious that the siting of the church is now slightly out of sync with the modern interaction, which is that it is owned by The Friends of Friendless Churches. I think that explains a lot. The Font is unpolished copper, I test it for sound and noticing the wall decoration and the intricate pannelled door I turn to see the most amazing Alter.....made of copper a blaze in the midday sun at the far end of my entrance. Then there is a pulpit, made of copper.
The colour of the walls is a mediteanean terracotta which in the sun seems to transport you to another clime.
I turn back to the double doors facing my entrance which are oak inlaid with what appears to be Macassar Ebony and Abalone shell. The benches or pews are carved with playfull animals Rabbit, mice and owls are but a few. The SM stands for St Marks.
The Church was built in 1895-98 for Louisa Tooth in memory of her second husband Charles who was the Chaplain of St Marks English church in Florence. Her first husband Richard Richards of Caerynwch bequeathed her the land in Merionedd and she was wealthy enough to adopt a style that pleased her.
The architect she picked was Henry Wilson (1898-1934) who was Master of The Artworkers Guild in 1917 and Editor of The Architectural Review. He designed the metalwork for Holy Trinity Church in Sloane Street that John Betjamin called “The Cathedral of Arts and Crafts”. He later turned his hand to silversmithing and designed jewellry.
He said of Mrs Tooths agent, Mr Williams who he had to liase with that “he knew no more than a cat” and it seemed there was plenty of disagreements.
Wilson wanted the stone left rugged but Mr Williams made it smooth.
Wilson believed that “the chief merit of Brithdir is that it is personal”.
I think in that he achieved great success.
He also said that “what has come out of Brithdir must live, because it has come out of my own life”. He wanted a simple beautiful setting and a beautiful altar. In this he achieved a great thing. The altar is lined with copper beaten into a beautiful realism with skill and attention that could only be done by a master.
It was claimed that the work was in fact hammered in parts, in repouse by Wilson himself along with John Paul Cooper.
The small boy, winged, with lillies in his hand is overshadowd by the figures who seem to welcome him or look over him. He seems to be kneeling in front of a hedge of thorns with various inscriprions, hammered from behind.
I believe there could be several different interpretations of this and I will leave people to make their own mind up. But to me it is a lament in copper and as the blade of sun shone across it I saw more and more detail unfolding like a poem before my eyes. It lit up my day.
I really will have to go again as I only had a limited amount of time and as I left I was still noticing further details. On the way out I noticed what must be an ancient stone structure perhaps the original place of worship. Covered in moss the stones were erected in the round. The symbol of an ancient structure that now has a little brook running through it shone in the winter sun. the graveyard is slightly overgrown with large crosses carved from the same stone that stand tall. There is a path that must be the orinal way for procession. It was silent and calm.
I will be back. To study in more detail, When I have some more time,
It made my day. I am so glad I stopped.
I took a little video. Click above.

Two days later I purchase a Copper beaten plate or plaque with Voysey hearts and grapes that could have come right out of The Church of St Mark.


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Tuesday, 4 February 2020

Is Wales The New France?

 I got dragged to Wales when I was a child.
As a teenager with a serious paper round it would cost me wages to go away and I always tried to stay home alone, so as to be free for a week.
Well when I say Wales, it was North Wales and every other person seemed to be from Liverpool.
 I recall one week at the summer peak most of the customers on my paper round seemed to be on the same Caravan site, or maybe the next.
Gradually I broke away and become friends with many of the locals, who would call for me when I was there and we would go off to the arcades and the fairgrounds looking for holiday makers, hoping to Kiss Girls Quickly and Squeeze Them Slow.
Or was it Kiss Them Slowly and Squeeze Them Quick.
Well both really, I wasn't that fussy.
This is the time before Facebook and Social Media so it seemed impossible to plan ahead. So you pick up friends where you are.
 Staying in touch was difficult.
When I got a bit older my Welsh girlfriend didn't have a phone so every Tuesday and Thursday she would walk over the phone box and call me. Or try to.
There used to be queues outside phone boxes, remember those big red monsters sitting on the pavement usually on the corner of roads.
I would phone and a bloke would answer it waiting for someone to call him.
“Its not you again is it? Will you get off the line I am waiting for a call”
I would hear my lady friend asking “Is that for me”?
“I don't know, you will have to wait” It was a joke.
I would ring back a few minutes later and the phone would be engaged, and engaged and engaged again seemingly forever. I would go the loo or something and come back to the phone and my sister would be on it, gabbing away one of her friends. Smiling......
“How long are you going to be” I would ask. She would be talking for an age and eventually I would make the call and the phone would ring out. She had been waiting that long that she went home.
This went on and on for a long time.
The kids don't know they are born today with their mobiles.
Now I am starting to sound like my old man.
I always recall when we came into the road to Prestatyn and looked over the valleys and even though I was interested in previously stated.... other things as a youth, I could not deny the outstanding natural beauty.
Being a fisherman my treat was to get into Wales with the grown men, who were all accomplished Anglers who would show me how to lay the ledger down in a eddy swell and wait for a chunky Chub to snatch my luncheon meat.
Or trot a float down river for some distant shoal of Dace. The hope of hooking a Grayling was always there.
 I did many times, becoming an accomplished angler. I took it very seriously indeed.
https://waynecolquhoun.blogspot.com/2015/03/pilkingtons-vase-decorated-by-richard.html 
I stayed out of trouble by fishing the rivers and lakes of Wales sometimes getting as far as Bala. Rain, hail and snow and the glistening sunshine in the summer there was no obstacles to my adventures.
My mates at school called me Findus for a while. 
Findus The Fisherman. I hated that.
Captain Haddock was another. It just shows you how much they knew as I did not go sea fishing.
Some of them would get into trouble later on. How could I tell them back at my school for hard knocks, about the excitement of seeing a Kingfisher land on my rod. And that its iridescent red breast feathers shone like beacons against the pure white snow. That snow that had drifted in overnight. That we had travelled through watching the wildlife wake up. While  the more nocturnal creatures such as foxes would be seen scurrying home before the dew had drifted away on the breeze. The air always tasted different. There was no taste of smoke or industry.
It was then that I decided I will come back when I am older but apart from antique buying trips, I only occasionally travelled back through the country.
It never disappointed even if sometimes the food did.
That's all changed now.
To stock my India Building shop I would travel to the continent sometimes twice a month, circumnavigating most of France and then all over it again.
Like a grown up kid looking for treasure I searched for Circa. Circa 1900, Circa 1920.
 Art Deco became my favourite style and France seemed the place to pick it up.
I must have been to some cities 40 times over twenty years. There are some I know as well as my home town.
I don't know whether its the fact that the language barrier means you miss the mundane, but the food was always good and the perk of the job was that I could eat out most nights.
 I have eaten some good food in France, I mean really good.
Though some of the best was cooked in French style in Belgium, but that's another story.
What a beautiful country full of twists and turns and friendly people.

But the grass is always greener on the other side.....of the Channel in this case.
But as with the poem that has always stayed with me says.

We shall not cease from exploration
And at the end of my exploring
I will arrive where I started
And know the place for the very first time.

I don't know if its just because you are older but It is a delight to journey through the Welsh hillsides with all their surprises. I think that the lack of industry and investment in some areas has been sadly missed but there are areas that look as if they have not changed for ever.
And this now, is that countries charm. Or at least that's my opinion based on the areas that I have recently frequented.
This means that in some places it has saved its rivers and lakes from pollution so you can quite easily go wild swimming in crystal clear pools that are hardly off the beaten track.
See waterfalls with that sweet fresh magnetic smell.
Rolling hills and sunken valleys with trees, branches moss laden with emerald velvet shimmering in the April showers. Yes, there are showers but that is the price to pay for the lush life and that spring growth that seems to regenerate your soul.
Its the spring, when the Welsh come out of their strong sturdy slate stacked piles, from their winter slumber. In just enough time to spare, to greet the new wave of woolly jumper-ed walkers who too, need to taste that fresh air with its bitter sweet taste of cold dew, lifting from the winter wake. They come from all over the world. 
Though lingering in the memories of The Welsh is Tryweryn. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-34528336

It is easy to provoke but if you play a straight bat you are alright.
And when you go into the history and the language.
Welsh is in fact ancient Breton.
The English are speaking a mixture of Viking, Angle and Saxon. The Welsh have kept their independence and you have to respect that.
The English are the ones who have been conquered many times.
I recently found underneath the pews in a listed slate built Welsh Chapel, a simple piece of pitch pine. Signed John Felix. Taliesin.
 And dated 1895.


Frank Lloyd Wright one of the 20th centuries great architects called his design company Taliesin. His company would be responsible for the curving Guggenheim, amongst many other memorable structures. 
This brings into my minds eye several stories of King Arthur's bard and poet of the same name, who may have been washed up in a leather satchel on the beach of Aberystwyth.
 The Arthurian legend is as much Welsh as it is French in the guise of L'Morte D'Arthur.
I am amazed at how little I have been made aware of the great history of Wales.
I really do look forward to exploring the myths and legends of old Wales.
Its time to pay respect and appreciate the history and independence and learn a bit of the old Brythonic language.

Wales Definitely Is The new France …...For Me.

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Tuesday, 14 January 2020

Supermarine Spitfire-One Of My Favourite Things.


Long before I understood what beauty was I admired this formidable fighting machine for its beauty.
I would build Airfix models of Spitfires and Messerschmidt and dogfight them together, inspired by the periodicals of the day and films on TV showing the glorious few who flew them as heroes.
I don't know how you can claim a killing machine was one of your favourite things but because of its place in history. I will.

K5054 was the code name for the first prototype Spitfire that was the marriage of the Rolls Royce Merlin engine and the frame that Reginald Mitchell had designed.
June 1937 Mitchel died of tuberculosis

K9787 was the first spit in production. The first fliers were astounded by its ability. The production created many challenges as the tooling process was particularly complex with many new style of engineering principles that the engineers had to master. The wings were particularly slim and the placing of them in such a low position helped to keep down drag.

Merlin 2 had a fixed pitch wooden propeller.
Could reach 20000 feet in 9.4 minutes.
The 78th spit had a De Haviland steel propeller to get more speed. A constant speed propeller with a Merlin 3 engine was fitted to the 178th.
Few were produced. There were only 3 squadrons in 1938.
Hurricanes were easier to produce.
There was a pitifully low production early on.
Sir Hugh Dowding almost single handedly produced Britain's radar system.
Home and Chain home low made u the worlds first air defence. …......Filter systems identified friendly and attacking forces.
Ladies were employed in plotting rooms.
The enemy could not track.
Once crossed the radar and observers plotted the course by relaying the information back to the centre.
The idea was that flying to combat would be as simple as possible.
Sept 1st 1939 Hitler marched into Poland. The new war had begun with fighters employing blitzkrieg in tandem with the ground armed forces of the German army.
France did not act decisively and soon the Germans moved on through the defences, around the Maginot line.
In November the first Spitfire flew over Germany in reconnaissance mode.
They could out fly flak at 35,000 feet.
Photographing would become a job for the spitfire with all its guns stripped out to make it lighter and faster.
Then the RAF bases in France were attacked. The French air force was withdrawn to the safety of the interior huge losses were attained. BEF were shrunk to Dunkirk and the last RAF airfield was abandoned.
The Messerschmidt 109E had 2 fuselage mounted machine guns and 2 cannon, wing mounted and were a formidable foe. Their pilots were confident. They would encounter Spits for the first time during operation dynamo.
16 squadrons of British aircraft including Spits at a time would see action with another 16 joining the Supermarines.
The Spitfire could out turn the 109 whose muzzle velocity was low and it was found that the convergence of the spits guns at 200 yds could destroy a 109 in a single pass. 132 aircraft were destroyed away from the beaches at Dunkirk but the RAF prevented the German bombers from smashing the BEF.
The troops on the ground would distrust the RAF as many of them did not see the battles that went on away from the beaches to prevent many German airplanes getting to the beaches.
338,000 British and allied troops escaped.
The true judge of combat showed the spit as a superb aircraft.
The conquest of Britain was planned. Herman Goring planned the invasion massing in early August for Eagle day the plan to start the invasion. While bombing ports and attacking convoys the canal account began. While defending the ports and convoys the 109's would be engage the British. Fighter command thought the first engagements were successful. But they only had 19 of spit and 29 of Hurricanes so husbanding Dowding forces engaging the bombers was a priority but over 400 planes had been lost.
The constant speed propeller increased its climb and engine wear.
Incendiary bullets increased killing power. Many pilots recognised its difference in shooting it out of the sky.
There was armour behind the seats. Bullet proof glass was fitted. Dowding arguing if BP glass was good enough for Chicago gangsters it was good enough for his pilots.
A V of three pilots were the method employed. But they could be bounced by a formation flying at high speed towards it.
The formation would be broken.
A finger of four was employed by Luftwaffe and the swarm would be the best formation. 125 were destroyed but most of these were bombers but the fighters killed 50 pilots and 35 spits and 36 hurricanes. The V was abandoned on initiation in favour of the swarm. By the British.
FL Alan Deer destroyed 17 aircraft during Battle of Britain. Taylor Malan a South African got a bar added to his DSO along with other medals. The German aces were a formidable foe and many of them would see the war with several hundred kills many on the eastern front.
The Spits and Hurries were fitted with cameras that filmed while the guns were engaged. These were shown to the public in cinemas and helped morale.
Claiming our pilots and planes were better than theirs saying the RAF gave the Nazis a beating over Dunkirk.
August 12th began a perilous time and 1790 sorties of Sept 17th.
183 were lost by fighter command by the 18th.
Losses outstripped supply and pilots were thrown in without adequate training.
If this was continued within 3 weeks the RAF would be finished.
Spitfire 1
Reginald Mitchell.
Towards close of Battle of Britain 920 spitfire 2's had been delivered to RAF. Merlin 12 was fitted (replacing the Merlin 3 of the mark 1) and the engine had been rated at 1175 Hp and fitted with cartridge starting.
The Spit II also had more gun power and most had 2a's 172bs were fitted with canon.
Mk3 and 4 never went into production.
1000 sorties a day were flown by Luftwaffe.
What Britain needed now was a miracle Dowding said.
After RAF raids on Berlin Hitler told the Luftwaffe to bomb London and the cities and this was the miracle required. Who ordered the bombing was it Churchill.
Goring was told the spitfires were down to 50 and ordered the Me 109's to stay close to the bombers and as result the 9 days up to September 15th 351 to 170 British fighters.
Spitfires were being produced faster than lost now.
Winter weather was a impossible barrier and Sept 17th invasion was cancelled.
If there really was an invasion as many now feel it was a feint to attack Russia.
October 20th 1940 day time bombing was suspended by The Germans.
This was the summer of the finest hour.
920 Spits were delivered Spit 2's were delivered with cartridge stating with more armour. “ B's had cannon.
The ME 109F was upgraded in January 1941 at heights above 240000 ft was a more superior aircraft and as a result the Spitfire 1 airframe was strengthened and a Merlin 45 engine was placed in.
February 1941.
Top speed 370 mph . Ceiling was 36.500 ft. Some wings were clipped for roll speed. Sub types were specified by wing types. A wing had 4 no 303 Browning machine guns. B took 20ml Hispano canon and 2 machine guns. C wing had flexibility 2 canon 1 canon and 2 machine guns with a second muzzle canon blanked off or 4 machine guns.
Result was Spitfire 5 was the most used spitfire and played a massive role in the defence of Malta.
1942 Spit flew as a fighter bomber.
In 1942 Fokker Wolf 190 was seen in ever growing numbers and outclassed the Mk 5
The MK VI was produced to combat it as it was superior.
Supermarine produced 7, 8 and 9.
The mk 9 Merlin 60 engine to a 5c airframe with a 2 stage supercharger with a after cooler giving the aircraft a top speed of 400 ph and 44,00 feet surface ceiling.
1944 MK9's were fitted with a new wing the E-TYPE.
Housing 20ml canon and a .50 machine gun. No German or Japanese could withstand this power.
MK 9 would stay in production. 5739 Mk9('s were built by wars end.
A seaplane conversion Echo Schneider cup was never put into production. 1943.
In October1944 a MK 14 as put into production and a Rolls Royce Griffin 65 engine was fitted.
Griffin was first fitted to a Spit in MK 4 in 1941.
A five blade propeller was needed to take advantage of its 2035 Hp Griffin 65 had immense power. 439 mph max speed and 43000 ft ceiling.
MK 14 was the final and most potent of WWII. Final WWII
MK 18 a strengthened version at the end of the war. Last of the original spit airframe.
Mk 21 to 24 were different aircrafts with Mitchell wing radically altered and few original parts remained.

In Malaya the last few Spits flew.



THE SPITFIRE One of the most inspired designs in Military Aviation History.

I DO NOT NEED TO ADD ANY MORE SUPERLATIVES THAN HAVE ALREADY BEEN NOTED.

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