The Grand Order Of Newts !

 

It has been said that some of the best plans are formulated in a pub.

So it came about that, one sunny Saturday lunchtime in the Torridge Inn, 1978 I think, that the idea for a works outing was suggested.

Not a new idea as there had been several such outings in the past and there is a photo of a group in the dairy archives which suggests it was organised by Fred Kingdom, this one probably about 1965 or 6.

It was suggested that a name be given to promote said group and I seem to recall that Alan Prouse suggested it be called "The Newts".

It became "The Grand Order of Newts."

We took it quite seriously. I created a design for a belt buckle and 13 were cast in bronze by a firm in Bristol. I think Phil Read organised this for us. They cost around £12 and the order was sold out.

Phil was Secretary and Pete Sutton was Membership secretary. 

Phil left us some years ago as I understand it. You were a nice bloke and a good mate, Phil.

I remember it was he who gave me the title "King Newt." Cheers, Phil!

There were three annual outings, the first being in 1979.

Posters were put up and Hookways coaches provided suitable transport.

In the end the most that came were about 18 but the coaches were 53 seaters.

The first year only one driver was required but subsequently two drivers were needed to cover the time on the Tacho.

We gathered in the Torridge at 06:00hrs on the Saturday, essentially for Brandy & milk

but some (Sid!) chose Snakebite as a starter.

The coach left about 7 am. and off we went.

Two churns were employed, one for taking a leak and the other with creamy milk to "line the stomach".

After a few bevvies care was needed choosing the right churn when taking a piss!

The first two outings ended at Torquay. It was usual to stop at the Pelican on the Paignton ring road. Already well-primed we would take over the pub, making good with the Landlord, and buying any locals drinks. The second year we came they greeted us as if we were family.

It was on the first trip, in Torquay, that we "lost" Paul Goodeve. After a few hours someone asked Where's Paul?" No one had any idea. "Oh, he'll turn up later!" - of course?

About 6pm Paul did indeed show up. Turned out he'd been in a shop and wanted to buy a leather jacket but had some trouble writing his cheque to the point where the shop staff became suspicious and called the Rozzers.

He had been detained whilst they established he was not trying a Scam. I think he did get the jacket in the end. Help me here, Paul.

There is a fountain on Torquay front and I must mention that Sid was deposited in it one time.

He reminded me of this when last I saw him. All in fun, Sidney!

It was understood that the deal was Cruise and Booze during the day, some time spent in the several arcades on the front and sober up for the evening event which was held at the Rainbow Hotel in Torquay, changing into best smart gear for the event.

One trip, two older dairy workers came along, George Andronik and Alec Brookes.

They went missing during the afternoon, last seen mounting an open top bus

but returned in time for the evening, well pleased with themselves. 

They had spent the afternoon at Brixham water festival.

George Andronik
with Sids'wife,Angie,

      

       Alec Brookes
              (photo: Fuzzy Martin collection)

Alec was a survivor of the hapless parachute drop at Arnhem during the last war.

On the second outing, after we had assembled in the Rainbow Hotels upstairs gallery, the Compair introduced us to the other guests as "The Grand Order of Newts from Torrington" and there was a small applause as we all stood and bowed.

From the start we got right down to the dance floor and went round the tables taking young women to the floor regardless of boyfriends but always asking first (none refused).

I remember we made good out on the floor with several "partners" that stayed all evening.

Eric Runnecles, oldest of our group, looked especially fine in his Tuxedo whilst wearing (clean) turned-down Wellingtons. It did not stop his smooth movement around the floor and caused much mirth. See Eric in the photo below.

Whilst we were cavorting about the dance floor the coach driver (s) were invited in with us and they sat throughout our evening. We never left before 2am and on this occasion Eric went AWOL and was found, about 2:30am lying asleep on a grave in a churchyard.

We got him back ok and the coach left for home at about 3am getting us back to the dairy for 6am on the Sunday morning. 

He left me a note afterwards which I happily reproduce here.

About Eric.

It was during the early '90's that I again met Eric who had become estranged from his family on account of the booze. He was living next door to me at Queen Annes in Bideford High Street. Just a few weeks later I heard he had been found, dead, in his flat. Sad!

Eric, you are gone but not forgotten my old friend.

On the way home on the first trip someone at the back of the coach was sick so I spent an hour using a dairy Pirelli hose washing the floor clean before driving home to Bideford.

Oscar Beer came on the second outing and was nowhere to be seen when time came to get the coach home. We waited 'till about 3am but no Oscar so we had to leave.

Not withstanding, Oscar was seen entering the Royal Mail in Bideford at 12 o'clock opening on the following day.

On the final excursion we headed for Newquay. Several Dartington Glass workers came along and Bob Taylor, Teds' son, came too.

This last time we started at The Newmarket, courtesy of Judd Bond, one of Torrington's most illustrious and likeable characters.

                               He had an unforgettable phrase he would deliver, loudly:

                                                 "Awrite, My Frends?"

He did us proud and took the only photo of The Newts before we left his pub.

There were more than 13!
(photos: Bob Friendship collection)

Newts "Who's Who?

 

The coach headed for Launceston where we stopped for breakfast. There were about a dozen holiday makers sat about the café and our arrival pretty much filled it to capacity.

There was a Liptons (I think it was) supermarket next door and some of us went to buy a dozen or so bottles of wine.

We had no means of opening the wine so asked the young chap, the manager, for assistance

He pointed out that the premises were not licenced for alcoholic consumption which caused our faces to drop. However, he was quick-thinking and suggested he would open the wine and pore glasses for us which he did. I think we paid him 50p a bottle, corkage, not at all unreasonable given the situation.

All the time the holiday makers were looking on apprehensively (fair enough) but as soon as

we had our glasses, and we included the manager and his staff, we took wine to all those holiday makers that fancied a drink with their breakfast.

Smiles all round, we were applauded as we left.

On we went to Newquay with myself and Phil Read and one other in the back seat.

We were watching following cars and one, a posh Jag with equally snooty looking driver and lady passenger, had the pleasure of the three of us "Mooning" at them.

They quickly passed at the first safe opportunity. 

Hoots of laughter from the coach

It was a boiling hot day at Newquay. First thing was going for a Dip. No Cosies so, in the middle of the main street thronging with visitors, off with our clothes, me, Phil, Tarbuk and Bob (Taylor) and down to the beach. On finishing the splash-about we returned to find our clothes but what to do with our wet caks?

Seeing a high wall beside us with runner bean sticks just visible on the other side we shed our wet underwear (regardless of visitors) and cast the garments up onto the bean sticks, hoping to claim them later when dry.

The day went well. 

We found a place that sold T shirts and could also print onto them so we all had a white shirt with, in big crimson letters, "Grand Order of Newts" and on mine "King Newt". 

Later, Bob Taylor found a studio run by a very pretty young lady clothed only in a skimpy bikini , who was piercing ears.

Well, it had to be done! Myself and Bob Taylor, to get a close-up of this young lady.

In the evening we assembled in one of the several clubs in the town and danced the night away without incident.

Before catching the coach, with our two drivers, we collected our dry caks from off the bean sticks and returned to Torrington on the Sunday at about 6am.

My wife, Jan, was NOT amused to find me wearing an earing sleeper.

It was just a bit of fun at the time.

On each occasion we had a whip-round for the drivers as we approached Torrington.

They always received a generous tip, the sole driver on the first trip, about a hundred quid and about £150 shared between the two drivers on each of the following excursions.

Newts did things in style. Some are no longer with us but the memories linger on of a great bunch of blokes who enjoyed a knees'-up. Proper Job!

Quite why outings stopped is not clear. It may have been the cost or maybe it had run it's course.

But it was a great idea and a lot of fun. 

Life, they say, is short.