Category Archives: British Virgin Isles

We just knew we were having fun

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Monday 5th October

“We didn’t realise
We were making
Memories
We just knew
We were having
Fun.”

Six years ago today my father passed away from pancreatic cancer. It was officially diagnosed that summer, whilst we were visiting him in South Carolina, but he had been feeling ill for some months.

He lived an extraordinary life, coming into contact with royalty, prime ministers, actors, union leaders, professional golfers, rock stars, cowboys, jazz musicians ……. the amazing list goes on and on.

His story began in Surrey, England on February 4th 1932.
We didn’t call him Dad, Daddy or Father. To his three children, (and everyone else for that matter), he was always know as Hank. (Although at school, his nickname had been Buster).
He was educated at Sutton Grammar School, evacuated to Windsor during the war, and then joined the RAF College at Cranwell.

For several years he flew at the Farnborough Air Show with his Blue Diamonds Aerobatic team (Hunter jets), also travelling all over the world with them, flying at air shows and gala events.

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Lightnings and Thunderbirds

He then moved on to the English Electric Lightning with 92 and 56 Squadrons. He had many postings to Cyprus and Malta during these times.

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Hank foreground, 56 Squadron

In 1966 he was part of the team of sixteen Lightnings who flew in a tribute flypast over the launch carrying Sir Winston Churchill’s coffin up the River Thames at the end of the State Funeral.

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Hank, fifth from left

Hank was presented with the Air Force Cross for Distinguished Service by the Queen at Buckingham Place in 1966. This was awarded to Hank for bringing the fleeing Shah of Persia (Iran), to England.

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Hank escorting the fleeing Shah out of Persia

In 1967 he was posted to Singapore, for two years, where he became the second-in-command of the three British Armed Services. Our family had some terrific experiences and holidays in the Far East. It was where I began my high school education.

Upon his return to the UK in 1969, he reformed 43 Squadron at RAF Leuchars in Scotland.

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Hank. Phantom. 43 Squadron

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Hank shadowing a Russian 'bear'

It was during this time that HRH Prince Charles was taken on a two hour, supersonic flying sortie with Hank in a Phantom fighter-bomber. The flight included an air-to-air refuelling exercise with a Victor tanker, taking on 1200 gallons of fuel. They flew as high as 40,000 feet and as low as 1000 feet, making a pass over Balmoral, (reported at the time, as an ‘extrovert flourish’).

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Hank instructing Prince Charles

During his time in Scotland he received the Bar to the AFC at Holyrood Palace, Edinburgh. This was bestowed upon him by The Queen Mother.

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Hank with AFC and bar

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The Queen's birthday flypast

In 1972 Hank made the decision to leave the RAF, travelled to Camper Nicholson in Portsmouth, bought a yacht and sailed himself across the Atlantic.

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Crossing the Atlantic in Western Union

Since then he spent many happy years sailing though the Islands from Venezuela to Chesapeake, in and around Bermuda, and across the Pacific from the Marquesas to New Zealand.

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Rum Raisin in Bermuda

During the late seventies he bought a ranch in Durango, Colorado and rekindled his love of skiing. At that time he was driving a black and gold Pontiac Trans Am and flying a Queenair Beechcraft to the Grand Canyon, Palm Springs and Santa Monica.

However, his passion for sailing soon returned and he again found himself travelling up and down the East Coast of America.

During the last fifteen or so years of his life, he made North Myrtle Beach his port, leaving every now and again to visit Tobago, the Virgin Islands, Bermuda, Venezuela and the Keys.

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Wild Blue in the Keys

Throughout his life, Hank had a passion for golf, playing courses all over the world, from Spyglass Hill, Pebble Beach; Troon in Scotland; Wentworth in Surrey, to the Singapore Island Country Club, where he regularly played with Lee Kwan Yew, the then Prime Minister of Singapore.

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Contemplating the 'gator at Tiger's Eye Golf Course

Whilst in North Myrtle Beach, he was part of a group of golfing buddies who played three times a week in and around North and South Carolina. He treasured their friendship enormously.

Hank was always a gracious host on his sailboats (Western Union, Rum Raisin, and latterly Wild Blue), taking friends on wonderful, day-sailing trips on the ocean.
We also became ‘boat gypsies’ for our summer holidays, and joined him wherever his yacht happened to be anchored. We had some marvellous sailing adventures together. We were so lucky.

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Wild Blue in Tobago

He had a great love, knowledge and appreciation for gourmet food, as well as an appropriate, fine wine to accompany it. Hank was always an excellent “sommelier” at dinner parties with close friends.

Few people knew of his great artistic ability with oil or watercolours, or of his talent as an actor, having appeared in several local commercials.

Hank was not one to verbalise his own talents, but he was totally dedicated and passionate about anything he endeavoured to do.

His free spirit could best be described by lines from a novel by John Berendt. Hank was the “Cosmos Mariner” ~ “Destination Unknown”

(Taken from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil: John Berendt is talking to Miss Harty while they drink martinis in the cemetery:

“Aiken [Conrad Aiken] loved to come here and watch the ships go by,” she said. “One afternoon, he saw one with the name Cosmos Mariner painted on the bow. That delighted him. The word ‘cosmos’ appears often in his poetry, you know. That evening he went home and looked for mention of the Cosmos Mariner in the shipping news. There it was, in tiny type on the list of ships in port. The name was followed by the comment ‘Destination Unknown.’ That pleased him even more.”)

Hank made many long-lasting acquaintances worldwide; from those in the RAF, the USAF and CAF; to the sailors, golfers and many who became part of his wide circle of friends.

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Hank and I

Miss you Hank.
Give Frank a great big hug.
xxxxx

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Franks' flowers today

Sailing 2001

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Saturday 5th September

In the summer of 2001 we flew into Charlotte Amalie airport on the US Virgin Island of St Thomas, to meet up with my father. He had decided that we should join him for three weeks of sailing around the British Virgin Isles. His 42′ Beneteau was comfortable, and had enough room for the five of us (Dad and I, you and your brother, and my father).

Our first few days were spent at Jost Van Dyke, with incredible sugar-white sand and welcoming beach bars. One afternoon a flotilla of charter yachts arrived, and on-board one of these was quite an incompetent crew; thinking they had secured the anchor, they went down below. A few moments later, their yacht was headed on a collision course with ours. Lots of shouting, quick thinking and use of a spinnaker pole and fenders, soon had the situation under control, with the wannabe sailors looking very red-faced indeed.

A few days later, there was another incident from the same group of sailors. We were relaxing in the stern of our yacht, when a tender casually floats our way, unmanned. My father caught it and tied it up to his yacht. It was quite some while before the flotilla skipper came round, thanked us for looking after it, and then returned the dinghy to the hapless crew.

From Jost Van Dyke we sailed over to Soper’s Hole on Tortola, and then to Road Town. The buildings, the people, the food, the music were all so incredibly colourful and full of fun and energy. In the Pusser’s Rum store you were fascinated by the large stuffed tiger.

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Frank and tiger. Pusser's Rum. Tortola.

We anchored off Norman Island for a few nights, with marvellous caves for snorkelling and swimming. Just around from the caves, in a wonderful bay, was the terrific Billy Bones Beach Bar. We managed to secure a mooring and took the tender ashore to have some food and drink. As a welcome, we were all given rum punches. I think you grabbed three or four from the tray, before anyone noticed. I remember you did enjoy them. Our waitress was called Candy, and I think she took a real shine to you.

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Frank and Candy. Billy Bones Beach Bar

Next to Norman Island is Peter Island, with the most magnificent stretch of white sandy beach. Having anchored the boat, we all jumped overboard, and swam for the shore, playing about in the surf.

Our next stop was to be Marina Cay, and we arrived here in a sudden squall of heavy rain, obliterating all sight of land, but we managed to anchor safely, and the skies soon cleared. One afternoon we climbed to the top of this island where you found a library full of interesting books, (I think it was a room in the original house owned by Robb and Rodie White, who had bought the property in the 1930’s. He wrote the book, ‘Two on the Isle’.)

After Marina Cay, we headed over to Spanish Town on Virgin Gorda, and stayed in an actual marina for a few days, hooking up to air conditioning was an absolute luxury. One of our memorable days out from here, was to the Baths. Huge granite boulders cluster together to form grottos and spectacular pools. We clambered over the smooth surfaces, grappling with rope ladders, to reach the amazing Devil’s Bay. The snorkelling was superb. You and your brother enjoyed jumping and diving off the rocks.

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At the Bitter End Yacht Club, where we anchored for almost a week, your brother had windsurfing lessons, and you splashed about in the club’s swimming pool. We wandered around the beaches, the clubhouse, and marvelled at the super-yachts alongside the dock. A calm and peaceful place to chill out and truly relax.

On our way to this last anchorage, we were sailing quite a way out from the shore, and my father rigged up some fishing lines from the back of the yacht. Miraculously, or so I thought, we caught our dinner. A good sized tuna. Your brother managed to jump across, into the tender, which we were towing, and unwrap the line that had caught around the propeller. You had to show off your strength, and picked the fish up by its tail. My father gutted it, and we had a barbecue that night of freshly caught ocean tuna. Absolutely perfect.

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This really was an awesome holiday. If it became too busy anywhere, we’d pull the anchor up, and sail to somewhere quieter. Both you and your brother enjoyed the swimming, snorkelling, sailing, watching shooting stars, fishing, beachcombing, windsurfing, and wakeboarding (my father had bought a wakeboard to tow behind the tender. It certainly was great fun.)

A lifetime ago.
But such precious memories of you, and the incredible times you experienced.

Love you, my happy Angel.
Sailing sunny shores with your grandfather now, I’d like to think.

Missing you like crazy xxxx

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