Pier Porpoise

The winter of 1963/64 had been particularly harsh. The whole of the
country had seen heavy snowfall and even the normally mild wintered
county of Essex had several feet of snow still in evidence in early
February.

Southend was also still in Jack Frost's icy grip and for a few hours at
each high tide even the Thames was freezing solid where it lapped-up on
the shore.

On the night of February 2nd at their home in Victoria Avenue, little
Joe Trimble and his dad Fred were preparing for their weekly
sea-fishing session off of the Pier. Although the weather was harsh and
a storm was gathering nothing was going to stop their fun and besides
Joe's mum had made sure that they were both wrapped-up well and
supplied them with a large flask full of Heinz Cream of Tomato
Soup.

Joe made sure that his prized possession, an antique fishing reel given
to him by his grandfather shortly before his death was safely packed in
the tackle box before giving it to his father to pack in the car.
Quickly they drove the short distance to the sea front and parked up
along the Esplanade. They then paid the admission fee to the Pier and
caught the last Pier train to the end. They would have to walk the one
and a quarter miles back after their fishing had ended but they never
minded this as it gave them a chance to talk to the other fishermen and
exchange tall stories of the 'one that got away".

And so they cast their lines and pulling their wind-cheaters around
them to keep out the howling wind and rain they settled down, quite
unaware of the drama that was about to unfold.

As the last Pier train made the journey back towards the shore,
disaster was about to strike. A sudden bolt of lightening streaked from
the cloudy sky and struck one of the many Victorian lampposts, which
lined the whole length of the Pier. Due to a combination of years of
neglect and metal fatigue the lamppost gave way and fell across the
track. The train driver never stood a chance.

Trying to peer through the rain lashed windscreen of the train he
didn't even see the lamppost until it was too late. The train thundered
into the post at full speed and was instantly de-railed. As the train
came off the rails it tipped on to its side and smashed into the Pier's
railings creating a massive sheet of sparks. Although the wood of the
Pier's decking was wet it was still a time bomb waiting to explode.
Decades of holiday makers had walked its length eating countless bags
of greasy chips and do-nuts and dripping millions of gallons of high
inflammable fat which had over the years soaked in the decking and made
each plank a mini Hindenburg waiting to explode.

And explode they did. The Pier erupted into a mass of flame. The train
driver, who had luckily been thrown clear of his cab by the impact,
could now only look on in horror as the massive fire, fanned by the
gale force off-shore winds, began to spread slowly towards the end of
the Pier and the stranded fishermen. He turned and began the long run
back to shore to raise help.

At the end of the Pier the fishermen were oblivious to the danger. The
howling wind made it virtually impossible to hear each other speak and
none of them had heard the explosion.

It took nearly half an hour for the train driver to reach shore and
raise the alarm and nearly another half hour before all the emergency
services were gathered at the fore-shore. It soon became obvious that
the fishermen were all but doomed. It was not possible to launch the
lifeboat as it was at the end of the Pier beyond the flames and
impossible to reach. A helicopter rescue may be possible but it was
doubtful one could reach the fishermen before they were consumed by the
flames, and even if one arrived in time the terrible conditions made a
rescue unlikely. It looked hopeless.

Joe began to feel a strange sensation. Although he was well wrapped-up
against the wind and rain, he had still felt chilly all evening but
suddenly he began to feel uncomfortably warm. Peering out from under
the hood of his windcheater he soon saw why. The flames were now less
than 50 feet from the fisherman. Joe immediately sprang to his feet and
ran towards his dad. "Dad, Dad, the Pier's on-fire!" he cried. Joe's
dad had already seen the danger as had a few of the other fishermen,
who were now alerting those who hadn't. Soon they had all gathered at
the furthest point of the Pier. "What are we going to do?" said one of
the fishermen pitifully. Joe's dad spoke up, "We mustn't panic" "I'm
sure help is on its way". The flames crept closer.

On shore the assembled crowd looked on in horror. "Those poor souls"
someone said, "They're toast!"

It was now becoming dangerously warm. "Where are they?" "I'm sure
they'll be here soon" Joe's dad replied but deep down he realised help
was not going to come. The flames were now less than 30 feet away and
Fred knew that in less than 10 minutes they would have to take their
chances in the freezing water or burn to death. "Have you still got
Granddad's reel?" he asked Joe. "Yes Dad I managed to grab it as I ran,
why?" "You'll need it next time we go fishing" said Fred, hoping to
raise Joe's hopes. Fred was trying to put on a brave face but really he
knew it was all over. If they took their chances in the water it was so
cold they would be lucky to last 10 minutes and if they stayed on the
Pier they would definitely burn to death. "What a choice!" he silently
said to himself.

It was then that they heard it, a very faint squeaking sound, but
getting louder. "What's that?" someone said. "It sounds like a dolphin
or something," said Joe, a keen junior zoologist. Then it appeared in
the water at the base of the Pier, a Porpoise. "I think it wants to
help," said Joe. He had read that Dolphins and Porpoises had often come
to the rescue of drowning swimmers, using a sort of sixth sense to know
of the danger. "Right!" said Fred, "In you go!" and he chucked Joe into
the waves.
As soon as Joe swam to the surface the Porpoise was next to him. He
quickly grabbed hold of the Porpoise's fin and they were off, the
Porpoise swimming powerfully towards the shore.

On the shore everyone looked forlornly out at the flaming inferno.
"They must be goner's by now!" said one of the onlookers. "No! What's
that?" someone then cried, looking at the water. "It's a Porpoise
pulling a kid," shouted a Policeman rather obviously. "Hurrah" everyone
shouted. By now the Porpoise had let Joe go and he was struggling out
of the waves. The Porpoise waited to make sure he was safe and then
departed. Joe fell into the arms of a waiting Ambulance man and was
quickly wrapped in a thick blanket.

Over the next half-hour the Porpoise made numerous trips back and forth
to the end of the Pier bringing the fishermen to safety one by one
until only Fred remained. The Pier was now totally engulfed and
everyone waited with baited breath to see if the Porpoise and Fred
would appear. For 10 anxious minutes the crowd stood in complete
silence preying for the telltale sounds of squeaking and splashing that
would signal the approaching Porpoise. Then they appeared, the
Porpoise and its precious cargo. Fred let go and struggled ashore. Joe
ran down the beach and into his father's arms "Oh Dad, I thought we
were going to die" "We would have son, unless it had been for the
unselfish act of that noble Porpoise" They turned and with the rest of
the people watched the now frolicking Porpoise as it did a few tricks
and leaps to entertain the crowd.

"Oh No!" exclaimed Joe "I've lost Granddad's reel". "Don't worry about
that," said Fred, "We'll get another" but Joe was inconsolable.

Suddenly the Porpoise stopped frolicking and looked at Joe before
swimming off. "I think he's gone to look for Granddad's reel!" cried
Joe excitedly. "Is there no end to this creature's intelligence,
understanding and bravery?" said his dad.

What happened next can only be guessed at, as there are no witnesses
except the Porpoise itself and perhaps a few crabs. But the popular
theory is that the Porpoise, while searching for the missing reel,
accidentally triggered the detonator of a World War II mine. What is
for certain is that there was a massive explosion and the crowd were
splattered with small pieces of blown-up Porpoise.

The next day when the tide had gone out Joe and his dad returned and
found the missing reel, laying on the mud, still clamped in the now
disembodied jaws of the porpoise.

The town of Southend never forgot that Porpoise and to this day a
memorial plaque can still be seen attached to the end of the Pier,
that's unless it's been washed away of course

The Pier has since been fully repaired and fishermen still fish off of
it but many a night when the wind is blowing and the rain is pouring
dozens of fisherman have heard the telltale squeak and splash of a
frolicking porpoise only to look at the sea and find nothing there.
Then when the hairs stand-up on the back of their necks they know that
it's just the ghost of the Pier Porpoise keeping it's eternal vigil in
case it's ever needed again.