Aunt Francis told me that the family would need my help sorting what was salvageable or not from what was left of our house. I was dumbfounded by what yesterday was my home. Shattered glass mosiaced the floor and the whole front of the house had been swallowed by the sea. The thatched roof had collapsed in half and now made a V-Shape inside my mother’s bedroom, which was quite visible considering the absence of the wall.
Mother set me to work by the stove. As I tried to light it I heard her and Uncle George talking about where we were going to stay. We couldn’t seek refuge in the neighbouring village as our work tied us to the sea as we all worked on the fishing boats. Our mother was a widow so two of my sisters and I worked with our Uncle and our cousin Harold on two boats. George said we could stay in the barn but he may have to stable his two mares in what was left of our house.
After I had made everybody a cup of tea, Patience and I were sent to our room to collect what was left of our clothes and possessions. Men had had to bore holes in our floor to let the water drain through into the kitchen. The only things that had survived the storm were those things packed in the trunk or the chest of drawers. After we had carried all those things to the barn we hung our bed linen on the thatch to dry out.
After the house had been sorted the others went out fishing and to search for our other boat that had been washed from the sea wall in the storm. There was however, very little of hope of recovering it. Only mother and I stayed behind. There was no room in the boat for all of us.
There was much to do in the village. Mother went sent me up to the London Inn to offer my services as we had heard that they had been hit hard in the storm as well. Mother however stopped to help Mr and Mrs Feverell, the owners of the village shop. The London Inn was at the far end of the village, so on my way I was able to look back and see the damage done to the whole village. Even at the age of six I could still tell that last night’s calamity had struck catastrophic disaster upon us. Over half the village must have been made homeless. There are few liveable properties here now. It is a miracle that everyone is alive and only two families have left the village of Hallsands forever.
When I had nearly reached the Pub I noticed that there was a huge crack in the road, which would make it impossible for me to go on any further. I crouched down on the grass and watched the men scurrying around at the London Inn. The front entrance had been blocked off and the whole cloakroom and cliff half the building was built on had slid into the ocean.
Unlike many disasters, after a few days village life didn’t return to normal. Even after weeks, months and many years, life in the village of Hallsands would never return to the ordinary. The only thing that rose nearer the norm after a few days was morale. The strong will of the Hallsands people went on, and times certainly got no easier.
Like many times before, the villagers sought compensation for the hardship we had all been through. In the past the cement company that dredged the shingle had sent replies back saying that the reason our village was slowly and painfully being sucked away from us was of natural cause. However this time the damage done was all too clear. The company paid us a barely adequate amount of money, yet we had nobody to complain to, we needed it desperately. The local newspaper also donated an appreciated amount of money towards the building of emergency housing.
My family and I on the other hand were eventually much luckier. It was the winter before we were due to move into our new cottage. Fourteen years of hardship had been endured. I was twenty. A row of nine two bed roomed cottages had been built for the ‘homeless’ population of Hallsands. I was to share a room with all my three sisters and Granny was to sleep with Mama. Although it would be a squash for a while, Clara was to marry in six months.
It was a very cold Sunday, well below freezing. Sam (my 10 year old cousin) and I were out on a fishing trip. We did not usually fish on a Sunday but household funds were low. We believed that we were the only vessel out. Visibility was low but we knew the bay well enough to navigate by memory. It was going well and after a couple of hours I felt we had enough to return home. However as I was turning the boat around I heard a chilling sound, a human voice. The wind was loud and I had often thought that it was talking to me, as if to deceive me. This time it was different, it sounded fearful. It touched me deeply and although Sam thought I was mad I turned the boat again, this time in the direction of the ghostly voice. I heard it again and realised that a man was only about ten feet to my right. I started calling out. My oar suddenly touched something solid. Sam shouted, ‘Don’t look!’ but it was too late, I saw a dead sailor floating away on his front. I called out again and I could faintly see a moving body clinging to a plank of wood.
As I drew nearer all the sailor could do was thank me. He nearly slipped as I pulled him aboard and some of our catch disappeared into the freezing water. When I touched him I was amazed at how cold he was. The water on his hair and nose was frozen and he looked as blue as the sky on a clear day. I quickly ripped my jacket, scarf and hat off and wrapped up the sailor while Sam rowed. After a while the sailor dropped off to sleep so Sam and I had an oar each which increased the speed by a great deal.
When we arrived at the bay, Sam rushed for help. Mother and the other women came rushing. They informed us that someone had heard the crash of a vessel colliding with the reef in the night. This answered a lot of my questions. She also told me that the men had left with the lifeboat to recover anyone else from the wreck, but this turned out to be a fruitless search.
The sailor’s family was very grateful to me for saving his life. So grateful that they paid me a huge reward of one thousand five hundred pounds! This made us extremely wealthy and there were many debates within the family as to what we should do with it. In the end I decided to build a large building above Hallsands as a memorial.
I am now thirty-five and no longer have to fish for a living seven days a week. I have turned my house into a hotel with seven guest rooms and I have built a platform that stretches over the cliff edge so that everyone can see where once the village of Hallsands once stood. Full of happy people who had no worries and never had to lock their properties because everyone knew and trusted everyone. This is a community that hopefully won’t be forgotten in a hurry.
Annie Rankin 10C
This story and the characters are based on a small ruined village in Devon, in the early 20th century.