Views of the harbour circa 1970

Two views west towards lock gates and one view east towards Brighton “A” Power Station. Taken from the roof of the “B” Station when I was an apprentice at the power station.

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  • During my young childhood, mum used to walk with my pram and two siblings from Mile Oak down to Shoreham harbour. Apparently she felt the air there was good for us. I have vague memories of my father being the Bosun on a ship in the port, we were on board for the afternoon, the Lesterbrook, I have photos. I can remember as a young teen walking down to a coffee bar, near the port, called the Anchor. Not the sort of place my mum would have agreed upon, but what she did not know, I got away with. Peter was the owner, and my friend Beryl Rothwell and I would jive to the juke box. Those were the days.

    By BonnyCother/Veronica Bentley (05/05/2008)
  • Hey Bonny, I would love to here from you! I remember those days so well, just like yesterday!

    By Beryl Rothwell (06/10/2008)
  • During the early sixties a favourite cycle ride of mine was along the quayside at Shoreham Harbour. I’d start from the Lagoon and cycle along the quayside road, which was then open to the public and ran literally along the dockside with no protective barriers or anything, all the way to the locks, cross over the lock gates and cycle along the coast road to the little lighthouse opposite the harbour entrance. I’d spend quite a lot of time watching the cranes unloading the colliers alongside the power station. I’d sometimes fantasise about cycling over the edge of the quay and into the waters of the harbour. Fortunately this never happened. In those days the entire harbourside was very busy with timber and other commodities as well as the power station coal traffic. Just a shadow of its former self nowadays.

    By Len Liechti (09/09/2011)
  • I remember sometime in the late sixties working for the harbour board, coming home on leave after a 18 month trip to sea as a steward for PORT LINE. One day we had to replace a greenhart fender by the lock gates, it slipped out of the rope sling and took off at speed into the depths leaving a trail of bubbles just like a torpedo; the diver looked for three days and never did find it. I was asked to leave, just as well my leave was nearly up and I had to rejoin my ship in Japan. Ah, those were the days

    By derek holloway (10/09/2011)

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