Fishing the Heron Ponds

Burry Port: Tranquil haven

See that concrete 'platform' below the train? That is the exact spot where my friends and I would go fishing for flatfish and mullet (only ever caught a flattie) in Burry Port. Looking at it again, after all these years of relying on smoky memories, is like opening a door to another realm and getting fired back into the ages. Ah, such sudden, blissful jolts of remembrance! What a soothing picture that sends the memories cartwheeling back through my mind like foxgloves falling on a freshly mowed lawn.
The spot itself is long gone now of course, having been replaced by the new Millennium Coastal park, but as you can see by the hilly background, it was a very peaceful place to go and set up rod and reel. Or with a good book on a summers day. Just beyond the railway line, was what we used to call the "Heron Ponds", and it was a haven for wildlife; herons, coots, moorhens, swans, rabbits, weasels, cormorants, wild geese, the list was almost endless as to what one could see there. And with the wild estuary looking out toward the beautiful Gower, it truly was one the best spots to visit in Burry Port (that ever so softly 'touched' the blink-and-miss-it Pwll.)
There was a sandy cove nearby too, and I used to think of it as my own private beach. Save the odd dog walker, it rarely saw much humans, for young boys growing up it was paradise. Swimming, fishing, camping, hunting; no prizes for guessing where a lot of the summer holidays were spent. We used to set up tents and pick limpets from the rocky shore to boil on a camp fire while the sun sank behind the distant hills. Oh how the city boys missed such magic moments! I keep saying it, and I always will but I am truly blessed to have grown up in this thorny, barnacled town in west Wales.

Jack Mariti

Local hero Jack Mariti

Visitors to Burry Port won't know the face behind the name Jack Mariti on the plaque dedicated to him near Burry Port's lifeboat station but perchance they stumble onto this site (having found it while looking for info on the town before a visit perhaps) I will share with you a photograph of the man here (courtesy of the Memories of Burry Port Facebook page.)
Jack Mariti was a lifeguard around Burry Port harbour who also taught local youngsters how to swim and his tribute 'down the harbour' is well deserved. Well I remember my grandmother telling stories of Jack, how he came to the aid of many in distress and saved many from a watery doom. A gentle giant, a real character (and legend) of the town.

Classic Harbour View

The harbour has changed a lot these last few years with the arrival of the Millenium Coastal Park but here are a few snaps of how it looked when swimming was allowed (as well as crane jumping). You can see the Carmarthe Bay Powers Station in the photo below. In fact not far from where that was taken was another hang out spot, used to love popping a few cold ones down here in the summer. (Mind you it didn't need to be summer). The water is always in now because of the new locks but before those arrived, the harbour stank of mud, stale fish and seaweed when the tide was out. Not necessarily a bad smell, just very different compared to when it was in.

Elikington Road 1905

Life in 1905

My family moved to a house on Elkington road in Burry Port way back in 1980. (My father still lives there). This road almost goes straight through the middle of the town and stretches from the top half (Achddu) to the bottom onto Station road. And thanks to this fact, it was a great road for skateboards and bikes.
No skateboards in this 1905 photograph of course. And that is most definately not Pembrey like it suggests.

The Garages

These garages were another favourite hang out in Burry Port. Just behind you can see the back of the Memorial Hall. These face other garages just out of shot and I have actually fallen through the roof of those because at the time (1980s) they had asbestos roofing as opposed to the concrete type you can see in this picture. Used to skateboard on here too, and occasionaly thought about making a skate jump from them.

'Co~op' Wall

Anothe old drinking spot

This charming little view is looking from the Coop bridge down towards the harbour. The train you see was a coal train that used to take coal up to Carway, and the small, red brick wall was another favourite hang out/drinking spot of my friends and I in the late 1980s and early 1990s. Used to be a handy toilet across the road too.
Of course the years have drastically changed all this and these days where that wall is in the photo, there is now a busy roundabout and the coal trains have long since departed to a lost station somewhere in time.

Siop Alwyn

Croeso I Siop Alwyn

Siop Alwyn (Siop is Welsh for shop) was a barbers situated on top of Elkington road, near Achddu. I personally don't remember much about it because it was on its way to closing while I was barely in school but it was certainly very popular before then. The only thing I do remember is if any schoolboy had a basin/bowl style haircut, then others would say that he'd had a 'siop Alwyns'.
You could also buy sweets and soda drinks in Alwyns and probably cigarettes too. I wish little places like these were still opening instead of closing because you get the personal touch and gossip that supermarkets just cannot offer. There is so much character to them and this was definately true of Siop Alwyn's.

One Fine Horizon

Ah bliss!

One of the finest things you can do in Burry Port is also the most simple; buying a parcel of chips (with fish, pie, rissole, etc), taking it down the harbour and eating while watching the boats do their bobbing thing on the water. Or looking out toward the Gower. Take it from someone who has done this a thousand times, its grand.
Summer is the best time to do this but all year round works too. Careful how you go though, the sea air has a lethal effect on appetite and you might find yourself heading back for more chips! Those ones in the above photo I had from Bev's chip shop at the end of New Street but that chippy is no longer open. Luckily we are blessed with more than one great fish & chip shop in Burry Port, which means you ought to sample this 'chips down the harbour' delight a couple of times. Just to make sure *WINK*

Station Bridge

The crow's nest

More shots of the famous Station bridge that crosses the railtrack at Burry Port/Pembrey station. As I have written before on this blog, this was a very popular hang out spot for my friends and I from around 1988 until 1992 ish. The heart of the town, or the 'crow's nest' as I always thought of it.
Some notable places you can see from this bridge are Barrie's Plaice and The George on the left and the Portobello Inn over there on the right. Carry on up the right and you'll find The Hope & Anchor pub.
You can see now how conveniently placed the chip shops and pubs are in Burry. The merry drinker can almost fall into Barrie's for a rissole or pie after a session in the Port. Very handy!



This is a view of the bridge from the bottom of Stepney road. the big red building in the background is the Neptune Hotel. When I was a boy it was the Carbay club and was one of the first pubs I ever drank a Coke in. (Courtesy of my father). In my minds eye, I can still see inside as it used to be all those years ago, with the dark wine colour leather seating lining the walls and big set windows. Emotions can go a little haywire, especially when one thinks of all the times, good and bad, that have passed by since the Car Bay club closed.



This is approaching Station bridge from the harbour. The building to the immediate right is one of the old Jones Newsagents (or 'top shop' as my brother and I called it), and the place nextdoor (you can just see the red shutter) is Smartiland sweetshop. Every childs favourite place back in the day. Slush Puppies and red laces! In the 1970's it was simply called Ken Rees's after the owner.

Burry's Ghosts and Myths

All villages have ghosts and Burry is no exception. For instance the Legion club is supposedly haunted and there have been people who have apparantly captured the spook on video camera. (Ive not seen any film myself). But plenty more colourful legends and myths have been believed to roam the towns fields and hillsides. Of course as these lush green parts grow less and less, so do the mysterious beastlies who roam them.
One was creepily called the Hook, who was rumoured to wander the Furnace Fields at night looking for children to terrify. As a boy I spent most of my spare time in those fields but (thankfully) never saw this character. To be honest I sensed almost immediately that the Hook was nothing more than a tall tale told by older children in an attempt to frighten the younger ones. But in the darker recesses of my mind, I hoped he did exist because I thrived on danger and having a deranged hook weilding guy hiding out in the hedges gave me a queer thrill.
Another less sinister myth was that of Miner 49er who was supposed to live in the hills and chased young people away if they got too near. There is a Miner 49er in the Scooby Doo cartoons so it isn't difficult to see where this came from.
The Pembrey/Burry Port hills have quite a few legends attached to them including the story of a group of runaway boys who decided to leave home and set up camp in the wilds. As is the way with these type of tales, more rumours were added as the years rolled on until this gang had supernatural abilities. Like the fact none of them ever aged out there in the woods, and only the young could see them.
The ghost of killer Will Mani is said to haunt the Pembrey hills and I have covered that story elsewhere on this site.

The Burry Element

The main drag

Porth Tywyn (Burry Port) is a lovely town but its schizophrenic as many small Welsh towns can be. In the summer its sunny as popcorn and as happy as the corn is snapping, but come winter it is grey, gossipy and neverending in its gloom. Locals are happiest in complaint, content in the towns back-to-back intimacy as long as the beer is cold and flowing.
Do not be fooled by the photograph above. It might look quiet and deserted but there is a local lurking behind one of the many lamposts, just waiting to pounce with the 'gen' (rumours) or the price of 'fags' (cigarettes). And its lovely, it really is.

Chivers Corner

Petrol indeed

Chivers Corner is a wonderfully named petrol station in Burry Port. And as I have with every part of my hometown, I have a story about the station. A few in fact come to think about it but one stands out like the red topped lighthouse which greets mariners every day. I was around eight years old and very adventurous, and I remember my parents deciding to take my brother and I to Porthcawl fair. An announcment like this was enough to excite children until they were filled with an almost uncontrollable amount of energy. And so it was with me. The family car pulled in to the Chiver's Corner forecourt to fill up with petrol for the journey and this prompted me to get out to stretch my legs (eventhough we'd barely gone a mile). Years ago the petrol station had a small shop which sold Smurphs and toy cars and it had a concrete walkway which went around the back of the place. This narrow path jutted out over a drop of around 12ft, the bottom wild with sharp rocks, nettles and thorns. Hardly a soft landing.
Now owing to my wreckless streak I thought it would be a good idea to climb over the metal railing and hang from my fingertips over this prickly and quite frankly dangerous area. Over I went and just as I lowered myself down my brother joined me to see what I was doing. In this I was fortunate because after I had been dangling for a minute, the grit from the path began biting into the flesh of my fingers, and as I looked below, I could tell that dropping into the debris underneath was going to result in a nasty injury.
So I began yelling at my brother to fetch our father to help me up. Of course he was busy filling the car up so I had had to wait, clinging painfully for life. It might have been 12ft but it looked way more than that to me at the time. I remember glancing down, trying to work out what type of injury I was likely to sustain if I let go. Broken ankle, lacerated shins, bruised legs, shattered knees, mangled toes. There was no end to the agonies I conjured up in my increasingly terrified mind.
When the old man who owned the gargage at the time walked around the corner to come to my aid, my arms felt like they had been pulverised by a steamroller and I gritted a smile from my mouth because by now Id been hanging for something like seven or eight long minutes. After pulling me up I offered my heartfelt thanks and we went on our way to Porthcawl with me looking quite sheepish on the back seat it has to be said. Ego and a devil-may-care attitude brews strange feelings in a young, and not so young mind.

A Carnival of Carnivals!

Today is Carnival Day in Burry Port, and its been held on the first saturday of July ever since I can remember. (Probably since it began, as we are sticklers for tradition in Burry). And this morning, as I awake thirty miles away from my hometown and a whole different skin from my ten year old self, the sunshine is pouring in through the windows like a buttery avalanche of goodness, which is exactly how every Carnival Day started in the past.
I might be using a touch too much of the Perfect Childhood Potion here but I honestly can not recall there ever being rain on this day. Certainly not from around 1979 (you can tell its sunny from the included photo below) to the mid eighties anyway. Come Burry's Carnival Day you could guarantee sunshine.
And excitement. And hundreds of locals and visitors lining Station Road in order to see the colourful assortment of floats and walkers in costumes. Teenagers back then (before the nanny state gripped everything) even climbed lamposts and hung from the railway bridges to secure good vantage points to watch the parade.
All of the work and build up in organising, designing lorries and choosing the Carnival Queen, it all paid off with interest when the day itself pounced from a ususally murky June. For most Burryportians it truly was/is the beginning of summer.


Myself (left) Father (Gonzo) and younger brother in 1979's Carnival

The carnival procession would start at 2pm in the carpark of the old Carbay Club, which is now the Neptune Hotel. The route was over the Coop Bridge and down along Station Road until the whole thing turned into the park after heading through New Street. Burry Port has quite a large public park with rugby and football pitches, and it is here that stalls and a funfair would pitch up for the day.
As a young boyo my family would all gather in my grandmothers house, near the tiny wooden gilled surgery, that was a darts throw from the park/shops, and had a car park so that family members from Penclawdd always had a place for their always orange~looking cars. My mother, grandmother and aunts would make a giant buffet of sandwiches, crisps, homemade pasties, rissoles and no end of sticky drinks. Everyone it seemed was at my grandmothers house on Carnival Day back then.
I was not fussed with the floats and procession itself, I was always eager like a firefly to head on over to the sugary delights of the funfair, where candyfloss would often fall from other childrens hands and blow in the summer breeze across the dried rugby pitch like neon tumbleweeds. All I remember was being crushed in Jones' newsagents shop doorway as noisy floats passed by, decked out in cardboard interpretations of paradise islands and sets of populat television shows of the time. While an assortment of Draculas, Incredible Hulks, Bugs Bunnies and the odd clown jigged by on rubber feet, holding out buckets half filled with copper pennies that rattled like teeth in a jam jar.
Being a solitary type of boy, I would always try to use the crowds to hide and shrink into so that these strange, mad eyed, usually sports shoe wearing beasts could not find me among the denim and cotton stalks of grown ups legs. Of course down there there were new dangers such as falling cigarette ash and syrup from ice cream sauces.
It was worth it however because the rest of the day was magic. An afternon spent in the park with hot dogs, game stalls, funfair rides and seemingly hundreds of chances to win miserable looking goldfish! (Im holding a goldfish in the photo above but due to the limits of the width of this post its too small to actually see). Every short trousered Welsh pup wanted one of those fish, regardless of how tattered they looked and no doubt come teatime every home in Burry Port had a hastily bought goldfish bowl which stood on top of the fridge like a crystal blister. Fridges were ideal for fish bowls as they were too high and too smooth and cat proof.
The funfair wasn't never going to challenge Porthcawl obviously but it had a nice selection of daring rides from waltzers to the parachutes, which were a type of ferris wheel which stood lazily at an angle instead of being upright and had umrellas over the wheels cars. This was a particular favourite of mine because when you came down from being at the top, it looked as if your rickety carriage was going to smash face first into the baked mud below. Quite a thrill even in those days when homemade 'rides' involved tree swings going over 30ft hillsides.
After the funfair and games, not to mention perfomances by the local brass band, we would head back to my grans for yet more homebaked treats. As you might have noticed, Burry Carnival day left quite an imprint in my memory and its a place in my head which I know is safe from any darker, more morbid thoughts which frequently invade my mind.
Of course as time rolled on and my older self left the salty snacks of my grandmothers oven and found another shaded area amongst rows of beer and ciders, the carnival offered new experiencces for my eager self and I was equally thrilled by them. Come the age of 19 onwards (until the day I left the town) Carnival Day would herald a mornings drinking; weak lagers, sherry and occasionaly spirits, fetched from the Co-op as soon as its doors opened. Crates of ale were carried from there and taken to various friends houses to be thrown back with heavy metal roaring in the background.
It was a fine day in Burry Port, as fine as the sloe berries that were found in the Furnace fields and made into wine.

The Adelphi: Burry's Popular Cinema

Its little known today as Burry Port goes through yet more changes, that this quaint fishing town boasted a cinema, the Adelphi. It was situated in Seaview Terrace, overlooking one of the the harbours and flung open its doors in October 1937, a few years before WWII kicked off and was considered one of the most luxurious cinemas of its time. None other came close in Wales.
The Adlephi had a stage with dressing rooms and when film wasn't on offer, plays and musicals could be performed. (Bingo was also played in the 50's).


Modern for its time: The Adelphi

The owner was Mr Labor Dennis who used to greet people in the foyer whilst puffing on a pipe. A much loved and respected chap in the town at the time. And boy did the people flock for the movies! They came from all over, from Llanelli to Kidwelly, in fact all over the Gwendraeth Valley. Such was the lure of live/recored entertainment before the war.
I would like to write that this happy place enjoyed many years of success but alas it was not to be. The good times only lasted 22 years, and in May 1959 the cinema closed its doors for the final time. The building was knocked down during the years of 1972 and 1973, which is why I don't remember it at all. (I was born in 1971).
The site where it once stood is now a car park used for shoppers and visitors to Burry Port.

Barrie's Plaice

The most famous fish & chip shop in Burry Port has to be Barrie's Plaice (or simply 'Barrie's' to locals.) Why I have deemed it important enough to mention to the blogging world? Because the shop is at the heart of the town and its a prime example of how small towns like this work and play. Barrie's isn't just a place to get delicious eats; here you can share gossip and find out what everyones is doing, from new jobs to new babies. Its an extension of the pubs if you will.
I have some nice memories from this special chippy (fish & chip shop for overseas readers.) Barrie's Plaice was where I had my first ever turkey burger in 1987. Remember, food before the eighties was quite regular and dare I say boring if you happened to live in a tiny fishing village in West Wales. Until the neon lit decade, diets consisted of sunday dinners, cheese/beans on toast and chips. Things like Chinese and Indian takeaways were unheard of, as were battered beefburgers and pineapple fritters, so when the humble turkey burger arrived on the culinary scene it felt quite exciting. (Sounds weird to type that in 2010!)


Barrie's Plaice

Three of us schoolfriends went to Barrie's chippy and we bought a turkey burger in a bun each, topped off with tomato ketchup. I remember biting into it and immediately thinking, 'hell this is lovely!' Almost wanting another one there and then. Of course food critics would say it was the dawn of junk food but for three young pals it was a Heavenly sandwich.
Another nice thing about the chip shop is it is on the same street as not one but three pubs; The Hope & Anchor, The Portobello and The George. So after a night of song and ale what better way to end than rissole and chips fresh from Barries? Or even better a beef burger as those are delicious and he never scrimps with the onions.
Little things about the chip shop also stick in my mind, like the wooden seat that is buy the large plate glass window. I say 'seat' as everyone used to sit on it whilst waiting for fish suppers but in fact I think it was a cover of sorts to hide away electic circuits or something. Neverthless, it was a seat to us customers and Barrie didn't mind at all.
Which brings me nicely to the owners themselves; Barrie and Ann. Wonderful people and Barrie always used to have an impromptu song to belt out when you were in there. (he was a drummer in a band in times past.) And good at cracking jokes too. It wasn't simply food you got inside, you had a mini cabaret. This is why I will always choose village eateries over giant restraunt chains because once you enter one of those you become anonymous, just another customer.
So there you go; Barrie's Plaice, one of THE best fish & chips shops in Wales and if you ever find yourself in Burry Port, do yourself a big favour and stop by. All the food is great but my personal favourites will always be the pies and beefburgers. Stunning, thats all there is to it. You might even get a song too.

Furnace Fields

Uploaded with ImageShack.us

The little town of Burry Port in West Wales used to have an oasis. A tranquil patch of green and wood next to the streets and clusters of houses. During my childhood it was almost magical, and even retained some of that charm as I grew up. It was a place one could go for the kind of peace which only the countryside can provide, where songbirds and splashes from frogs in the pond was the constant background noises.
There were four fair sized meadows, overgrown in places like a wild beard, and here and there oak trees and beeches stood, lush fodder for the ever present green woodpeckers. And of course there was the pond, filled to the brim with newts, frogs and pond skaters, that zipped across the waters surface. Reeds skirted the edge like watch towers and every Spring would bring masses of frog's spawn, eagerly collected by myself and others.
I adored the place, it instilled in my younger self a passion for nature which I have never lost, and I am forever indebted to this tiny haven for wildlife. In one field patches of ferns grew, deep and rich, perfect for catching crazy children intent on throwing themselves from trees. It also had 'tunnels' of brambles which would take us to different areas of the town if you followed them, one ended up coming out on the top road.
I often howled in delight at the looks of older people being totally suprised at the sight of a group of children, suddenly appearing out of the hedgerows, shrieking like red indians. Those portals were invaluable in games of hide n' seek also, or playing truant from school. Parents had little hope of finding their wayward offspring in the wooded jungles.
In the farthest field, if you ventured down a steep bank, you would find a well, where fresh water would always be running. In summer months it was bliss! After a day of tree climbing and dive bombing ferns, there was nothing better than feeling that silver water on your skin and down the parched throat. The doubters insist that fairytale gardens only exist on pages of books, but I know different.
But alas, nothing is sacred, and it is with a sad and bitter heart that I must report that the Furnace Fields are no more. Man, and his vulgar quest to erase nature for the sake of building even more shabby estates, has seen to it. The ferns, pond, trees and birdsong are all encased in cement, and where glorious stills of wildlife stood now are tombs of families and car pools of oil.
Man, the utter vandal.


The Furnace Fields

Amelia Earhart Visits Burry!

Burry Port hit the international news in 1928 when American aviator Amelia Earhart flew from Newfoundland with co-pilots Wilmer "Bill" Stultz and Louis "Slim" Gordon in a Fokker F7 and landed in Burry Port harbour (lucky the marina wasn't there then) becoming the first woman to fly across the Atlantic.
It was quite an event it would seem, and lots of locals rushed down to the harbour to greet Amelia. My grandmother and her sisters were among them but they always told me that the famed pilot was quite hot tempered and not as friendly to her greeters as has been reported elsewhere. Of course the woman had just crossed the Atlantic in a tiny sea plane so its not suprising she was a little tetchy. We Welsh always expect others to be as hospitable as we are, even if they've completed a massive challenge.

Seaplane 'Friendship lands

Three Harbours And That Red Topped Lighthouse

Burry Port has not one but THREE harbours (all linked) which must be something of a rarity for a town so small. Growing up in the 70s and 80s I thought of them as my personal swimming pools during summer months and gigantic bowls of grey broth in the winter. Early morning walks 'down the harbour' are best because the mist rising from the waters surface give it a otherworldy look and the smell of cockles in their gooey beds really is something not to be sniffed at. (Terrible pun there, I apologise.)
The harbours are like a triangle, two are side by side while another 'sits' at the front spilling into the open sea. Or it used to until the marina and harbour gate arrived. Just beyond the front main dock stands Burry Port's most famous sight, the lighthouse. Around 40ft high, its walls are sheer white with a bright red top that houses the powerful bulb and it stands right on the end like a stone guardian keeping the sailors and indeed the village safe.
There is real character to it all and it was my playground in younger days. The black crane (used to haul cargo before I was born) and bridge were used a diving platforms and teenagers crowded them on a summers day, eager to 'bomb' into the cooling water. Of course that was in 1986, now the nanny brigade have erected spiteful 'No Swimming' signs but I have covered my thoughts on that in another article.
The harbour is really the heart of Burry along with the main street lined with shops. The two are forever connected by the image of sand on the streets pavement carried over from beach goers, that has remained seared inside my memory bank since forever. Almost everyone used to go to Perego's cafe (with its orange wall and ice cream cone picture) to get a Tovali soda drink or a banana split before strolling down to the harbour walls and take in the spectacular views of the Gower.

Me near the iconic lighthouse

It can easily rival Tenby in the summer, and is more peaceful too because everyone is in Tenby! I used to LOVE waking up at 7am in the summer holidays and rushing to jump off the old black bridge which spanned the water. Fish (mullet usually) would be feeding near the seaweed on the edge and before taking the plunge I would sit and try to devise ways of catching them. In my youth, like any animal loving child, I wanted everything for a pet.
It appeared to me then that time stood still as I changed into 'Bermuda' shorts in readiness for the early dip. The morning mist seemed to freeze everything and back then I could have betted my soul I would remain in that carefree moment forever. Sadly is has all changed now and like I say local authorities forbid any swimming in those harbours. (And they wonder why children today stay indoors!)

Sign of the times

It really had to be experinced and children today in Burry Port really are missing out on something special. There were different places (all within easy reach as you waddled in wet shorts) and each one offered its own thing. The harbours themselves were mainly used for diving (with some occasional bathers choosing to swim from one end to the other) while the beach was for the sunbathers and paddlers. Over by the lifeboat shed was what was known locally as the slags and this was the place to try to surf and fish. There was plenty on offer for everyone.
Whenever im feeling down I close my eyes and take myself back to Burry Port harbour (or the Furnace fields) to how it used to be back then and instantly I am relieved of any burden that is weighing heavy on my shoulders. It never fails.
I am in two minds regarding all of the work that has been done there in these last few years, what with the new marina and coastal path. I must admit that certain things needed doing and the new cycle path has brought lots of new visitors but I dont like the marina. To me (and I realise others will disagree) its an ugly wooden spiderweb and the harbour was much better looking without it. But as I say, thats my opinion.


West harbour