The Seal dojo and a new era

Shortly before Gareth left Blighs, he had opened a second dojo at the Seal Church Hall. I never attended this because I was unable to for some reason at the time. There was some talk that he had opened it without permission and that students would be blacklisted if ever caught attending these illicit 'bandit club' sessions. As it happens, this talk was inaccurate in several respects but since writing this account many years ago, I cannot remember why. Anyway, it was this hall that I chose in which to reopen the Sevenoaks Karate Club. Blighs had become far too expensive, in any case, it was too large for my purposes and the changed conditions of the time. The days of the big time dojo in Sevenoaks were definitely gone, Karate's heyday was over. I did not want a very large dojo, just one big enough to support my own personal practice and to further the development of the school as a whole. Karate students are generally very devoted to the instructor or hierarchy under whom they operate, I was no exception and considered it an honour to further the interests of Jon Alexander and of Zen Shin Ryu.

Fighting for my club

The early days of the Seal dojo were uncertain to say the least, since Gareth had left the Sevenoaks area John Baldock had, it transpired, operated a small club at the Seal dojo. When I started my own club at Seal John was still operating his 'unsanctioned' club, but I was unaware that John had been running a club at the same premises. On the second night of operating my club, John appeared. He told me that he was already operating a club on the premises and expressed a resigned desire to join forces and work with me in running an independent club. I was filled with trepidation for I didn't get on particularly well with John and I feared he might want to take over and run things on his own account. Jon Alexander would not want any involvement with 'bandit' operators. However, John did work with me in running the club for two or three sessions but things quickly came to a head. The time had arrived at last, we were treading on each others toes. I had always been the same rank until recently when I had pulled ahead. The belt did not mean anything, what did, was to prove to all, who was top dog.

Nothing was said, it just happened as naturally as the sun rises. We had been trained to enjoy what was considered realistic sparring with just a little more than a moderate amount of contact. On this occasion the sparring was to surpass any previous conflict we had entered into before, it was by our standards of the time, epic. As soon as we started it was clear that we were both in for a great deal of stick. John had recently recovered from an accident on a motor bike and said that he had damaged his shoulder. If this was supposed to make a difference, it did not. In no time at all we were in full and hard combat. John executed the first of several excellent kicks to my groin, control didn't enter into such combat. Unfortunately for me, something seemed to get in the way of my instinctive thought processes and suddenly pain exploded through me in the most unbearable way. It must have been clear to John and the students who had become aware that something was afoot, that he had scored well, for I felt paralysed. I tried not to show that I had been affected, but the tightness of my face must have shown. With practice of course, one is able to overcome these things, and I maintained a strong stance and breathed carefully while I prepared for my own attacks. John stalked around me uncertain, for he realised that I was mad and desperate now. Suddenly I attacked with great enthusiasm striking out and meaning to take my antagonist out altogether, and as he twisted away, I inadvertently struck his damaged shoulder. That was the deciding factor in that bout which entertained the whole class for many minutes. Continued kumite was pointless. What became of John after this I do not know, but he never returned to the dojo.

Another successful dojo

Soon the Seal club became as firmly established as the Blights club had been, and a new era started for the Sevenoaks Karate Club. Perhaps the only reason that the school survived was because I lived locally and did not have to invest relatively large sums in travelling to and fro, a burden that the previous instructors had found too much. Eventually I was able to fill the hall on every occasion. It was not until my last days at the Seal dojo that Steve and myself were awarded our probationary dan grades (Shodan ho). Seal then had became the second Sevenoaks Karate Club headquarters and although some old members attended initially, most were new.

I became so directly involved in this dojo, on an instructor basis that my memories are somewhat different of this period in time. Undoubtedly we had fun, but now I had to be above such things for I had left the 'shop floor'.

Competition days

For the year that the Seal dojo operated we developed our very first inter club competition kumite team which comprised such well known (at the time) individuals as, Derek Gardiner, John Donoghue, John Philips, Mark Titman, Peter Jolly, Mick Peirce and myself. I had already entered into inter club competition at Lee Green and had experienced limited success. My principle problem was that I kept being warned or disqualified. I could not come to terms with competition rules. However, I did win a number of bouts against my contemporaries and even seniors. I also had some bad failures. On one such tournament, I was pitched against a senior black belt when I was a brown belt. This in itself would not have worried me, what did was the reputation this character had. I forgot the simple rule, discount the belt and any dojo 'tales' about your adversary. On this occasion, all I could hear were whispers in the audience, "He will kill him". The fact that they could have been talking about either one of us did not help reduce my apprehension. When the bout started, I felt I was doing OK. I got a number of techniques in and my adversary did not seem terribly competent. The fact of the matter is that I was mistaking nonchalance and supreme confidence for incompetence. I danced around with great enthusiasm, dipping and diving, hitting here and there without scoring a single point. Then suddenly my adversary moved in. The next moment my legs had gone, swept from beneath me, and I was airborne, horizontal and about four feet in the air looking at the ceiling lights. The crash when it came was shattering, I hurt all over, my head and coccyx in particular, hurt like hell. That was one contest I lost. In bouts like this, I always learned a great deal. l always remembered reading of Karate that there was never a winner or a loser. This was something that few other students and practitioners seemed to understand. The advice provided to me after that bout was, "Suck a polo mint next time. If you get to be hit, crunch it and spit out the bits. He will be disqualified for breaking your teeth!" Another spectator volunteered the advice, "If you had stayed on the floor, he would have been disqualified!" Oh, dear, such was the spirit of competition.

As time passed, I developed a strategy that put me in good stead and won me a reputation for being a 'head banger' if nothing else. For the most part my approach lacked technical skill and invested in much 'never say die' attitude and acting. I would feign fear and trepidation at the start of a bout, then when the opponent gained confidence and scored a half point, I would suddenly move in with a non-stop barrage of blows until the recipient succumbed. There was always much noisy kiai and shouts of "Yes!" for every blow I got through. It was from this time that I gradually developed the reputation for being a hard and merciless sparring partner.

The reputation was not wholly deserved, yet many years after I had transcended such a base approach, I was still talked of as a hard fighter.

David Cochrane visits the hombu

One day, my old senior, David Cochrane visited the hombu. It must have been two years after he had left the Blighs dojo. I still remembered him as a formidable fighter who had hurt me many times in kumite. He, remember, was the one who taught on a one, two three basis - two warnings of faulty defence and then zap. David changed into his gi and went onto the mat to train with us. Near the end of the session, we did ippon shobu kumite (One point competition sparring). Quite accidentally, I was paired up with David. A distant thought went through my mind, "Oh no, not again!" However, much to my surprise and satisfaction, times had changed. David evidently, had not trained intensively and I had. Two years had passed and now I was able to defeat him with relative ease. I was no longer afraid of him.

Visiting Ticky Donovan's club

It was also at this time that Jon invited me to accompany him to Ticky Donovan's annual championships. Jon was acquainted with Ticky. It was the first time that I had visited another style and was impressed by what I saw. Jon was invited by Ticky to take part in the proceedings and act as a corner judge. The competitions were hard and bloody, but at the time fun, I thought!

Jon Alexander visits my dojo

One day Jon Alexander said he would visit my club and give a demonstration of swordsmanship and sai (a kind of short truncheon trident). We looked forward to this for it was a great honour for him to visit our dojo. He came to my house first to pick me up so that I could show him the way. I had already warned my students that he would be coming of course and explained exactly how they were to behave. You must understand that the etiquette was impeccable at this time, and very Japanese. It was considered most unseemly to be familiar with Jon Alexander or indeed any instructor. These men were Gods among men and had to be treated as such. We arrived at the dojo and I helped Jon to carry his equipment to the dojo. There was just one student present as we were quite early. I expected him to bow politely saying 'Oos' and then carry on with what he was doing, but of course no such luck. As Jon walked through the door carrying his sai, my student ambled up saying, "Wocher mate, wot, brawt yer sticks wiv yer then 'av yer ?" So much for first impressions!

This same character made me smile when he joined the school initially. He approached me uncertainly and looked all around obviously seeking privacy of conversation. I led him to one side and asked if I could be of assistance. He said that he was interested in karate and would like to start training. With this I explained the procedure and methods and explained how the training involved sparring practice and so on. He looked in consternation and said, dipping his head towards mine, in a low whisper, "Now that might be a problem, 'cos I've only got one ball. Will it make a difference?" Remembering my epic duel with John Baldock I politely explained that it would probably be a distinct advantage.

An aggressive visitation

On another occasion, I learned a valuable lesson in running a dojo during these times. Several members of another club in the organisation - Orpington, visited me.

Now in these days, the less reputable clubs and associations were not above stooping to some underhanded practices. Taking over a dojo was not uncommon. What would happen was that a 'renegade' or 'bandit' sensei, a kind of ronin, would, with his 'henchmen', select a dojo he fancied and then simply take it over. If the dojo sensei could not encourage the bandits to leave they would simply evict him and that was that. Now of course, this practice was illegal, and a complaint could have been made to the police, but it never happened because of course that would have constituted a very great loss of face, almost more so that losing the dojo in the first place.

On this occasion, take over would not seem to have been the intent so much as to get some sporting practice in with my junior members. The training session went very nicely until I introduced pairs jiyu kumite (free sparring) a regular (non-traditional) training practice in those 1970's days. Two individuals were obviously much higher grades than any of my newer students, and they made a point of over contacting when they were put with my lowest grades. Such behaviour was forbidden of course. As the sparring progressed, it became quite evident that these visitors intended showing my students just how ruthless they could be. One young woman, Julie Welch was knocked from one side of the dojo to the other. This was the last straw, I called for a halt and said that I would join in, and the very next time over contact became evident the culprit would fight me No sooner had we recommenced the sparring than Julie was knocked down again. I stopped the combat, called for a change of partners, and moved to place myself opposite the villain. Before I could reach the exact spot opposite this offending worm, he turned his back and walked out of the dojo. I could not believe my eyes and assumed that he had gone to the toilet or something, after all, it was forbidden to act, even breath unless the instructor said you could. To have someone just walk out was the ultimate slap in the face.

As it happened, I have never seen that character again. He changed his clothes and literally disappeared. Having a great sense of justice, I took the trouble to memorise the appearance of this student, and whenever I visited the Orpington dojo afterwards I looked for him, but he had left altogether. I resolved to rectify a situation without a moment's hesitation if anything untoward ever happened in my dojo again. However, as it happens, nothing of the sort did happen again. Perhaps attitudes and methods then in our group encouraged such people and engendered such attitudes but times change.

The Longford club

The Longford club was not a Karate club, it was a night-club, and one my contemporaries and I visited frequently. Most Fridays, after we had been turned out of the pub we would go to the Longford to continue there. It was a small place, but pleasant. One could drink, eat and dance there. The membership comprised about 90% people who were already well on the way to being paralytic. This resulted in occasional threatening and confrontational situations. Steve Hambidge and myself were sitting at the bar one night when a belligerent character said something abusive to Steve relating to the anomalous position of a one armed pillock practising Karate. The man was standing on Steve's right hand side with his hands resting on the bar waiting to be served. Without a pause Steve's good right hand shot out and clamped the man's left wrist to the bar. Now I knew that this must have been hurting the man like hell because Steve had developed incredible power in that one arm. The man winced and attempted to pull free. Despite the fact that Steve was mechanically disadvantaged in the manner of his hold, the man could not break free at all, and had to capitulate and apologise before Steve released his arm.

We are threatened after a session at the Chinese in Bromley

Through association with two non karate friends who engendered within me a passion for wearing 18th Century dress, there was a time when I was in the habit of wearing a black frock coat, plum red German velvet waistcoat, old style cotton shirt with an abundance of frills at the cuffs, a stock that abounded with lace frills and black shoes with large erect tongues. In effect this was after the dress of a relatively poor eighteenth Century musician. To complement the effect I carried a silver topped cane, dress rings on my fingers with a frilly handkerchief threaded through one of the rings, and a silver stock pin. Some of my friends would not be seen within half a mile of me when I decided to wear my 'ducky suit' out and about. On this occasion, I wore my ducky suit on a training visit to the hombu. This raised not a few eyebrows but in that environment no one had the bottle to tell me what a ponce I looked - which is exactly what they thought. After the training session, Steve Hambidge and I decided to visit a Chinese restaurant in Bromley. As we sat eating, I was aware that three rough looking fellows were sitting at the next table, Iooking at us with considerable mirth. Steve with his left arm tied to his body in a sling eating Chinese one handed and me looking like something from another world. When we eventually left the restaurant, the three men followed us out. As we walked down the street towards our car the three yobs leered and began pushing us along from behind. Both Steve and I responded in the same way simultaneously. We spun around and did a little pushing and shouting of our own. We were somewhat disappointed when the three ruffians turned out to be weak and cowardly. They turned on their heels and ran off.

Southend dojo to be invaded

One day a call came in to me at home from one of Jon Alexander's students saying that they had wind of an imminent invasion of the Southend club by a rival group. Would I go along and give support in defending the outpost? To my great regret I had a previous engagement and was unable to join in the fun. Instead I passed word onto one or two of my own senior students and hoped all would turn out all right. As it happened the rivals were seen off and did not attempt another take-over. This was the last time I heard of such a thing happening. Times were changing fast. People were no longer prepared to put up with such things it seems. Perhaps it was that martial artists in the U.K. were growing up and becoming more responsible.

Lots of injuries

I think the Seal dojo saw more ambulances than any other dojo in which I have ever trained. Certainly this period did. Julie was removed one evening after dislocating her knee when practising throwing me to the ground. Jerry Donoghue had a visit but was not taken away, when someone thought his face resembled a kick bag and used it as such. On another occasion, at very short notice we were unable to have use of the hall because of a double booking. This was not unusual and eventually led to the closure of this particular hall. I waited outside for everyone to arrive and took them to another hall in Riverhead. Little did I know that this hall was to become the most long established dojo of all in Shinseido, in years to come, for this was the Riverhead Memorial Hall. It was not a good night from one point of view. With me, I had two visitors who wanted to see Karate in action with a view to joining. They certainly saw action. The sparring session was a disaster. First, one individual was knocked out cold and had to be removed, another fractured several of his knuckles, another sprained his fingers, and John Donaghue had his face remodelled. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, it was splendid sport, even if the visitors did look sick. I was the villain who modified John's face, but have always claimed it was he who did it. As I executed a hard and fast circular strike to John's upper arm musculature, he suddenly dipped his head forward in an attempt to avoid the blow that he mistook for one to the head, and instead took it full in the face. It was a powerful strike and did much superficial damage, and for some time afterwards John had to wear dark glasses to disguise two beautiful and spectacular black (very black) eyes. He looked so funny, like a panda. Our visitors did not come back. The bloodstains from that very first night at Riverhead Memorial Hall remained on that floor for years until they gradually faded away. I can still remember identifying them in 1985. Even today, (1996) there is my very own embusen point where I inserted a drawing pin into the floor when I laid claim to 'my patch'. (Note: Little more than two years later in 1998, the old Riverhead Memorial Hall was demolished and a new one built in it's place. One of the most treasured things that I rescued from the old dojo was the piece of floorboard with my drawing pin stuck in it. For almost twenty years, I had stood on this spot every time I trained.)

Peter Jolly

One Peter Jolly became well known during these times, and eventually attained first dan level. He was quite unique in that he lived in a make believe world all of his own. He also developed the art of levitation to a high degree of perfection. Often during a sparring session, a moment before contact was made against him, he would inexplicably rise from the ground and fly through the air as if he had been struck by a battering ram in full swing. This technique was developed to combat an inherent fear of sparring. Such was the type of training and sparring back then. On one occasion, we gave a demonstration at a local fete and Peter demonstrated this method with supreme skill. As l delivered an oi tsuki (lunge punch), right on the moment of contact, just as I had generated full chi, his feet lifted off the ground rearward so that he assumed a completely horizontal attitude. At this point he flew backward feet first and face down about four feet high over a retaining rope around the arena and into the audience. After executing a somersault, he landed flat on his back in the middle of the crowd. I am sure the crowd blamed me for what appeared to be over contact and brutality. Peter said I hit him, but l do not remember feeling a thing, I still maintain it was levitation. This is not a tall tale either, there were 600 witnesses.

On another occasion, the training degenerated into what resembled a Laurel and Hardy film. As I stepped forwards and delivered an oi tsuki Peter anticipated the attack and despatched himself into the air (levitation again I swear). He later insisted (quite wrongly of course) that I had made contact and lifted him from the floor. In any event, he did not stop until he found the corner of the dojo, and with a bang he stopped and literally slid down the wall. He seemed to slid gracefully down the wall as if stuck to it by something sticky This was not an illusion, for standing in the corner was a fire extinguisher around which were scattered several ashtrays. With a bellow of surprise Peter's seemingly capacious rectum descended onto the pointed end of the fire extinguisher and at the same time his heels dropped neatly into a couple of ashtrays. His attempts to find a purchase upon the floor with his feet while trying to avoid being permanently impaled upon the fire extinguisher were among the most hilarious moments of my entire Karate career. You see, it is the simple things that make life so wonderful for me!

John and Howard

Two other individuals also managed to reduce the class to gales of laughter on occasion. One was a great big fellow of some 6'7" named Howard Smith and the other his friend John Philips. Both had started training under Gareth at Blighs and had been with the school ever since. These individuals had the unfortunate knack of being able to look at each other and then to fall about with the most infectious mirth, that the class and myself (on more than one occasion) were unable to continue. Only those who can remember the indescribable story of these two listening to an Oriental woman sucking spaghetti in a restaurant will appreciate what I mean.

One should not for a moment think or assume that my early Karate days were one long playtime. Such trivial incidents occur comparatively rarely, but went to make otherwise painful and strenuous training light-hearted, and this made all the difference.

Steve and I take our dan grading

The most traumatic moment in my Karate training came when it was announced that Steve Hambidge and I would be taking our dan grading at the hombu (headquarters). It seems impossible to me now that the account of my training thus far occupied no more than twenty-one months. Yet, twenty-one months after I started training in Karate I was called upon to enter for the black belt examination. I cannot believe that this could happen today. Our current minimum training time to black belt is three to five years. However, I have to say that I have not encountered another individual who was prepared to train up to nine times a week during basic training, and this clearly made a great difference. The day arrived, 28th March, 1976 - less than a week after my thirty first birthday. Steve and I met up and went to the hombu in a quiet mood, we were both filled with trepidation and fear. I found it difficult to believe that I was subjecting myself to the coming ordeal.

Everything was normal when we entered the dojo. We changed and went onto the tatami to warm up with the others. There were a fair number of dan grades present that evening, some of whom carried their reputations before them. There was Roger Large, probably the most able dan grade I knew, and his sidekick Mick Tierny, another very able and efficient karateka. There were also Philip Nye and Eddie Gribben two prominent dan grades of the time. There were a number of other dan grades too, but perhaps because of my nervous state and preoccupations, I cannot remember who they were now.

Then Jon Alexander dropped the bombshell. He walked up to Steve and myself and said quite simply and matter of factly, "You two run the club tonight - start now!" I suddenly realised how little I knew. There were some forty students, and among them, all these black belts waiting to begin serious training - and it was down to Steve and myself to do the job. No preparation, no five minutes for deciding a quick plan - it had to be now!

I looked at Steve in despair, he looked at me, and it was impossible to tell who was the more terrified. I just switched onto automatic, said a little prayer and called in a loud authoritative voice, "Embusen!" I was not even sure how to go about the formal bow and include Jon Alexander. Everything seemed to be going in slow motion, nothing seemed to be happening, as if in a dream, the class slowly began to move into line. In panic I shouted, "Come on, I said embusen, hurry up, chop, chop!" I had no idea how ludicrous this sounded to some of those present. "Hurry up, chop, chop" is not the thing you should shout at black belts with years more experience than you. Some of the looks l got had to be seen to be believed. The next few minutes were a mental blur. Steve and I managed to negotiate the problematical rei, and then embarked upon the most enthusiastic warm up I have ever endured. What we actually did I cannot remember. I can however, remember the smirks on the faces of Roger Large and Mick Tierny as we tried desperately to look as if we knew what we were doing. You would have to know these two characters to know just what those smirks meant to us, they were certainly not helpful.

I do not know how long Jon Alexander left us in charge of the class. It certainly was not for the whole session, for we had to endure a formal grading in front of all the dan grades. The time came, and Jon called for us to stop taking the class. With enormous relief Steve and myself called the class together and bowed out. At this stage, the class took a short break. Then Jon asked us to follow him into one of the smaller side rooms attached to the main dojo. Already the dan grades were assembled there and in some sort of discussion. They did not acknowledge us and we were left to stand in a formal yoi while Jon Alexander explained our background to those who did not know us well. Some dan grades had come from dojo further afield, and our paths did not cross on a regular basis. Then Jon turned to us and asked us to perform techniques, methods and kata on demand. First I would respond to a request, then Steve. In between these requests was a certain amount of discussion among the grading panel and not a few shaking heads just to add to our absolute and abject misery. We were then commanded to demonstrate a number of kumite procedures. At last, the trial was over. All stood and bowed formally, then Jon announced that we were to be awarded the Shodan ho (probationary black belt) rank. We did not leap for joy obviously, rather, bowed with a quiet smile of gratitude and left the room. During our absence, the main class had been working through techniques with Roger Large and Mick Tierny. Now we all joined together and Jon took the last part of the session comprising jiyu kumite. I was so proud to return to my own dojo and don my black obi for the first time in front of my own students. They too were delighted. This seemed to give a moral boost to the Seal club as a whole.

Of course, what I describe falls far short of many dan tests that have been conducted. Nevertheless, this has to be taken in context with all the other training that was going on at the time. Jon already knew Steve and I were of the right standard and that evening's test was more of a formality, albeit he was taking advice from other dan grades present.

Looking for a new home

For all our time at the Seal dojo we used the Kentish Yeoman pub afterwards in which to have a drink and chat. We had many good times here, and it became our third meeting place as it were, Blighs and the Bullfinch being the first two. Because of the erratic bookings that became even more frequent as time passed by, I decided that we would have to move dojo. There were several possibilities, none of which were perfect. However, something had to be done for I feared that I was losing prospective members by the number of cancellations we were getting. No one knew where we would be from one week to the next. It was decided that the Blue Room at the Sevenoaks Social Club was to be the next Sevenoaks Karate Club headquarters. It was also anticipated that in time I may open other clubs in the area which would be operated by my high grade students in conjunction with my own dojo. The Blue Room was a good choice as regards position for it was in the middle of Sevenoaks and just across the way from our old Blighs dojo. The size was not too good but then we were not looking for high numbers so much as quality of training.

Expanding my activities: The Blue Room and Wilderness

These were hectic days, for the Za-Zen Karate Association - Zen Shin Ryu was growing, and currently comprised some 34 clubs and, it was claimed, some 2000 students. I do not remember anything in particular about the Blue Room days, but soon after establishing ourselves there I took the opportunity to open two satellite clubs which I intended running myself until someone else could do so.

Of the two clubs, one was successful and the other was not. These dojo were the Miners Arms and Wilderness Sports Centre.

I found it fascinating how the environment could affect one's attitude to training and how certain things stand out in the mind to remind one of certain things or aspects of a training hall.

I shall always remember Blighs for the smell of the disinfectant or air freshener used in the toilets. Today on rare occasions, I smell this, and it immediately brings back memories that are normally hidden in the deepest recesses of my mind. I am sure Gareth would not thank me for remembering him mostly when I am in a toilet!

I remembered Seal for the feeling of the floor under my feet and the acoustics. The floor being supported on joists gave a hollow feeling and sound, typical of so many church halls.

I have to say 'remembered' in the past tense now as I transfer my notes, because I might be writing about someone else. I have to confess that some of the things I am recording, I can no longer remember very clearly at all, and had I not made copious notes about my training and experiences within Karate I would have forgotten them altogether.

I remember the Blue Room (yes I can still remember that) for the blue carpet tiles aid on a solid concrete floor, the large windows and its office atmosphere. It never really did for me what a dojo should. The WiIderness dojo was a badminton court in a sports centre, and so was large and created a considerable echo. Even with a dozen members the effects of kiai were quite spectacular. The opening of this dojo was quite an affair. I advertised it in a big way and invited all and sundry to come and assist. When the time arrived to begin the demonstration I was slightly perplexed to find there were only three of us. In time however senior members of Za Zen Karate, including Jon Alexander, Philip Nye, Eddie Gribben (ex. MKA), Tom Grogan and others turned up to assist. It became quite a memorable event. Unfortunately the membership never did cover the high costs of the hall and in time, it was abandoned. Despite this, one or two good students were initiated and individuals such as Chris Rixon and Brian Hayes, later a dan grade, were first introduced to Karate in this dojo. Brian Hayes was a serious student who had moved over from Judo. He was attached to Interpol and later became Assistant Chief Constable of Surrey. I note he is still in training (1990) in Wado Ryu (2nd dan) and has become Chief Constable of Surrey. I sometimes see him on the TV news. Good luck to him, I liked him.

The Dunton Green dojo

The second satellite club was a particular favourite of mine. The Miner's Arms was unique in every respect. Never before or since have I worked in such a small grotty little dojo. The maximum capacity was ten, for standstill workouts. The floor was wooden with an old musty carpet laid down, which burnt the hands and feet with friction. There were beer crates full of empty and smelly beer bottles, two defunct pianos, a bar, table and chairs stacked up at one end with a great miscellany of junk. The walls were lined with beaverboard that as time passed became increasingly devastated. One day a character named Terry Day managed to push his backside through the wall, while on another occasion I executed a fumi komi geri (stamping kick) and put my foot right through the floor. It seemed that I was always carrying out running repairs before the landlord, Charlie Hatt or his wife Chris found out just how much devastation had been caused. Despite the grotty appearance, the atmosphere was absolutely first rate. Steve Hambidge and I opened this club together, and I shall never forget the 'opening night'. (As it happens I can barely remember it now, isn't it astonishing how 'important' events become less important, and then as time passes, even they begin to fade from memory in preference for more currently important things). Anyway, we had advertised the opening of this dojo in a small way only, because of the small membership we could take on. Posters had been put up in the pub and around the village. When Steve and I arrived there were only two spectators I think and the others had to be coaxed out of the pub bars still clutching beer mugs and generally making derogatory remarks about karate and kung fu. Among these gems, was a future black belt, Mick Peirce.

We gave up any thoughts of giving a demonstration, the dignity of the dojo was just non existent that night. Instead, we decided to cajole the spectators into joining in for a training session, if only to prove to them that after a few exercises they may appreciate that there was a little more to karate than at first met the eye. Amid gales of mirth and laughter some had a go while others sat and watched, replenishing their drinks as we sweated.

Gradually, as the lesson wore on, the spectators disappeared back to the bars clutching empty beer mugs. Many happy hours were spent here before we had to move through lack of space. I remember one character being practically knocked through the wall, many blood spattered kumite sessions and many minor injuries.

Sunday morning training at Dunton Green

As time passed by, we introduced a Sunday morning session at The Miners Arms, which was not always to my liking. At the time, a Sunday was the only day when I could relax and recuperate ready for Monday again. To be literally dragged from my house on a bitter cold and frosty morning still paralysed with sleep was definitely not fun.

I always made it quite clear that unless I was picked up there was a good chance that I would not be there. So religiously, every Sunday l would be picked up. As the serious Karateka knows, it does not much matter what state the body is in, or how inefficient one feels, immediately one enters the dojo a kind of inner spirit is kindled and the pains and aches are shrugged off as if by some mysterious force. Certainly for me, this was the case. Mind you, I did play act just a little, it was kind of my trade mark, to crawl into the dojo and then having donned my gi would suddenly burst into what can only be regarded as commendable and determined action.

There were times though when spirit was difficult to come by. The incredible dampness of the dojo on a frosty morning seemed to penetrate right to the bones.

On one occasion we abandoned all thought of spirit and put a small pencil bar heater on in the corner, and while all and sundry kept me busy with kumite, one of the students was allowed to warm their feet before relieving one of his colleagues in the fight. I had to adopt some positive techniques if I were to break through to the heater and defend the corner with my life while I warmed my own paralysed feet. Be assured that morning was COLD, and I mean COLD. It was a record for the time, and even lots of movement did not seem to prevent the toes, fingers, ears and nose from going numb. Yet despite this, there was no question of abandoning the training of course.

Mick kills his sensei

It was on one of these Sunday morning sessions that my star pupil, Mick Peirce executed a neat mawashi geri jodan (roundhouse kick to the head), which made good contact with my face. Momentarily, I reeled under the impact, and on impulse decided to conduct an experiment. It was the first time that I discovered the art of feigning. I fell heavily to the floor and remained quite motionless, waiting to see how effective the first aid treatment would be. It was difficult to control my breathing for I was not only short of breath but trying not to laugh, all at the same time. The fact that I was lying on my face saved the day, for there must have been a large smile upon my face. After a period of silence someone said "*&AA%$#" followed by "You've *&A%*&AO/o$ killed him" Another period of silence ensued in which time I could have died several times over, then, "That's it then, that's the last time I do karate." What I did not know was that Mick was taking off his belt while saying this and throwing it to the floor. I never learned if he intended to leave the dojo or attend to me first. I could contain myself no longer, then someone turned me over. I had no idea my nose had been bleeding, but my face was covered with blood. That did it. Then I opened my eyes and my face folded into a broad grin. The looks on the faces around me had to be seen to be believed. Looks of horror turned to Iooks of realisation when I burst out laughing unable to contain myself any longer. Then the looks of realisation turned to looks of annoyance. I will refrain from relating any subsequent comments from my students. I seem to remember that another well known instructor was present at the time, one Derek Gardiner, who became instructor at Swanley, and was a founder member of the Jiyu Seishin movement which came later.

Getting my own back

Mick Peirce made good progress in Karate, for he had been with the Royal Ballet for some years before starting Karate. Often he would be able to demonstrate technique to a high level of technical perfection that made most of those around feel completely inadequate. However, as time went by I managed to get my own back inadvertently when I executed oayubi ipponken (thumb knuckle strike) to his temple. Although it was a controlled strike I was surprised how effective it was as he fell to the floor like a stone This was the second occasion that I decided that certain techniques were dangerous in the extreme. Years before at Blighs, I had executed a flying kick and contacted so well, that the recipient, John Baldock had been thoroughly winded. Such occasions make one realise that the control must be of a very high standard if possible serious injuries are to be avoided. One must (I remember thinking) take into account, movements and the possible movements of one's partner at all times.

Gareth visits Dunton Green

It was in this dojo that I last practised with Gareth Toogood, for he visited us one night with his wife, Lynda who had also been a student at Blighs. Lynda donated a beautiful hand drawn dragon banner that was held by the association for many years. The first dojo in which it hung was the Miners. A red banner, also held by the association, was one that I made when I started operating on a full time basis some years after this. The calligraphy said 'Za Zen Karate' and so reminded all students of our origins. These banners ceased to be used in 1990 because they were getting tatty and needed restoring. Then somehow they were accidentally destroyed during a clear out of old material. Another banner, a bird marked 'Jiyu Seishin' has also been lost now, it was getting pretty tatty anyway. It dated from 1981 when our design consultant John Moore was commissioned by the committee to give us an up to date image

Arthur Ragan

Arthur Ragan was a hard nut type who frequented the Miner's Arms every night. He would sit in the public bar and gaze miserably across the bar into the saloon bar where we went for a drink after training. One night as I stood at the bar waiting to be served I suddenly became aware that Arthur was looking directly at me in a very aggressive and threatening manner. He barked "What are you looking at, have you got a problem?" I realised immediately that he thought I had been staring at him. I had in fact been gazing absently in his direction but through him, as it were, quite unaware of his existence. I inclined my head and waived my hand dismissively as if to say "It's OK no matter, no trouble, no offence meant." This was not good enough for Arthur who left his spot at the bar and walked around to the saloon bar to confront me. His approach was designed to intimidate and frighten. It did. "Do you know that I am an expert in unarmed combat?" he said. I was not sure what his intent was and I replied that I did not. He followed with "what would you do if I punched you on the nose?" As he said this, he thrust his fist forwards towards my face. Naturally, I responded, I did not know if he intended to punch me or not, I did not even think about what was happening, I simply responded instinctively to the trigger. My arm shot out, blocked his arm, and at the same time, because of my fright and the sudden nature of my response, managed to punch him straight in the face. He was astonished. The punch had not hurt him for that had not been the intent. However, he was clearly surprised by my immediate and spontaneous response. I thought, "Oh no, now what have I done?" A big smile spread across Arthur's face at this point and he offered his hand. "Well," he said, "that was mighty impressive, so you do know what you are doing." From that time on we always spoke when we met, and later Arthur's younger brother Tom started training at the Miner's Arms club.

Being chased by the police

There was a time at the Miner's when we had a hard session and had gone into the bar afterwards for a drink. This of course was not in itself unusual, but the amount of alcohol consumed this night was. Perhaps we were celebrating something, I cannot remember. Quite a while after closing we emerged looking and certainly feeling very much under the weather. Directly opposite, parked in shadow was a police car, lights out, two policemen could be seen sifting watching us depart. We decided to use one car and drive no more than 20 yards before turning into a side road where I lived. Amid much merriment, we piled into the car that was carefully and sedately driven up the road and around the corner. On looking behind, I observed the police car switch on its lights and move out of the shadow obviously in pursuit. I remember saying to the driver "He's after us, move it!" and suggested a quick way of disappearing by driving along a turn off into a cul de sac that led to some garages. The driver acted with commendable presence of mind, within 45 seconds we had stopped, switched off the lights, and were sitting listening for the following police car. The plan worked and the police car was heard to drive at high-speed right past our turn off, but on reaching the end of the road was heard to stop for a few moments. We could visualise the looks on the faces of the two policemen, for we just could not have disappeared that quickly. Sure enough, the car was heard to turn around and drive slowly back down the road. If the policemen had any sense at all it would be obvious where we had gone. In a flash of panic I shouted, "Out, get out and follow me!" Everyone jumped out of the car. There was a six or seven-foot high brick built wall at the end of the cul de sac, and it was very dark. With great and unusual spirit, I leapt over the wall in one. The way down seemed particularly far and after what seemed a long time I landed on the edge of a piece of upturned corrugated iron sheeting, scrapping my shin and cutting my hand. I slipped down into the mire of a well-cultivated compost heap, leapt out banging my head on the branch of a tree and started running, falling over a low wire fence that enclosed a garden. I was fast losing enthusiasm. At this point, under normal circumstances I would have been reminded of Gerrard Hoffnung's Bricklayer speech to the Oxford University. From this moment I remember very little, it felt as if I had just worked several hard competition fights. I remember running with a desperation second to none through someone's garden and eventually finding myself on the main road through the village. In no time we were all together, casually strolling along the road as if we had been out for an evening walk. At least we had lost them. Now we would walk to my home around the corner and have a coffee before working out how to retrieve the car. On turning the corner to my house, we were surprised and dismayed to say the least to see the police car waiting outside my home. Obviously, it was a coincidence, there was no way they could know that I had anything to do with our little exploit. We could have retraced our steps but it was too late, we had been seen. As we approached my house the police car door opened and a policeman got out and walked towards us obviously to have a word. On coming close and in the light of a street lamp we suddenly experienced those confused thoughts of one realising the truth of a matter, for the policeman was none other than Mark, one of our students. A big grin spread across his face and he said, "Where did you get to?" After relating our brief encounter with the compost heap, we all went into my house for coffee. Our policeman student's colleague was not so amused by our game and although he did not say anything it was made clear that he was suffering mixed feelings about this encounter with the Sevenoaks Karate Club. For the next hour we sat drinking coffee and listening to the police messages in case our friends were called in. We do, from time to time have policemen train with us, and at this time there were several.

Mario Kopec

One day my wife answered a knock on the door to a man who introduced himself as Mario Kopec. He was for some months to become a well know character in our organisation. He was in his 50s and wanted to learn the art of self-defence. It is rare that one encounters an individual who puts such unusual spirit and determination into training as this man did. In no time at all, he insisted that he be taught sparring, and although he should have been practising kata, his enthusiasm won through. I began to teach him some of the basic sparring methods, and he would try to copy them. Whenever I stopped short with an attack he would become agitated and say, "That's no good, if you do not teach me properly, I will not progress!" It transpired that he wanted me to make contact so that he could find out how strong the attacks were and whether his defences would stand up to such attacks. I explained that it was dangerous to make contact with techniques such as these, and that the whole point was to practice control - at least in the initial stages of learning. After resistance work during the war, this seemed too tame for Mario. He insisted. Regrettably I feet obliged and made semi contact when I taught him, but again he insisted that I was making a joke of it all. Much to my regret, thinking back, I capitulated. It became clear that I would have to demonstrate once, just how dangerous the Karate attack could be. I struck, with far from full contact, driving through Mario's defences and Mario grunted and fell to the floor. In obvious pain he said, "Good, good, that's good." I failed to appreciate how one could think that what turned out to be two fractured ribs could be good! However, from this time on, all our sparring was conducted on this basis. Mario must carry the all time record for injuries sustained during basic training, from broken fingers and toes to multiple contusions, sprains, head injuries etc. He also carries a memorable place in our records for sheer determination and dedication. Unfortunately, he left the club to return to Poland. He remembered us when he returned to England occasionally and he once came to the dojo and took several photographs of us.

Other memories

There was another man, Paul Welch who had trained with Kyokushinkai and displayed an unusual spirit in kumite on occasion. Such individuals certainly brightened our training. One day we had much amusement when several long-standing members were practising kumite on an all onto all basis at the Miner's Arms. Our friend Paul, in his enthusiasm charged me and I executed chudan yoko geri (middle level side kick) and at exactly the same instant Chris Rixon executed an ushiro geri (back kick) to Paul's rear. Paul was sandwiched between the two perfectly simultaneous attacks. Again, fractured ribs were recorded.

For some time, I adopted the old David Cochrane methods of teaching on a one, two, three basis. Another Paul gained first hand experience of this unkind and thoughtless treatment. He insisted that his groin was covered and I proved twice that it was not, on the third time I made contact. Apparently, it was a reasonable technique for he was unable to ride his bike for some weeks.

Teaching the T.A.

It was around this time that Peter Jolly and I taught at the local Territorial Army unit. Unfortunately, the lessons were too infrequent for progress to be made, nevertheless we had a good time and hopefully some of the members learned a little. There was one gentleman here that had quite a remarkable resistance and insensitivity to pain. This bespectacled character was always in arrears of the events that were happening around him. His appreciation for actions or events would not become evident for some moments. Spontaneous he was not. On executing a groin kick, I expected this student to say at least "Ouch!" Such a comment was not forthcoming. Thinking that I had failed to kick the right spot, I did so again, but there was no response to this either. I was half interested in this phenomenon for I had not witnessed it before. I kicked again with relative enthusiasm but without result. Finally, and in some desperation I kicked with sufficient force to break a brick. The reaction was exactly the same - absolutely nothing, then suddenly, some twenty seconds later he said almost as an after thought "Ouch!". I remain baffled to this day.

I become close to Jon and work on new kata

During my last months with the Za Zen Association, I grew very close to Jon Alexander. I think that for a time I was his leading and most prominent student. We often trained together on a private basis. Jon was always seeking to improve his system and perfect his forms. He had it in mind to develop ten kata. When I began training in July 1974, he had seven forms, kata seven being the most advanced of all. During the latter part of 1974, Jon developed his demonstration kata (No. 8), this was regarded as his own personal form, and initially no one else was allowed to work it. I was lucky enough to be taught it before any one else in the association. Then during 1976 Jon began working on kata nine and ten. I felt very honoured to be directly involved in the putting together of these forms. We spent much time at Jon's new full time headquarters at Eltham, discussing and practising the various aspects of the new forms. I was the first in the association therefore to know the new Zen Shin Kata Ku and Kata Ju.

Concluding thoughts

I would like to think that all students enjoy their basic training as much as did I, for this must be the first requisite. Today I use the term Shinseido, then it was Za Zen Karate. It has always been a serious art, but without humour and enjoyment, it would be a very tedious art.

I can remember thoughts of great horror when I was asked (told) to join my first public demonstration. It is surprising just how quickly an individual can progress to a level that can be impressive to the public. Karate clubs are always being asked to do demonstrations for fetes and clubs etc.

A demonstration either seems to go well or feels bad and uncomfortable. As far as the audience is concerned of course, everything appears to be good. Perhaps it is the atmosphere of the audience or the attitude of the demonstration team. I am not sure, but certainly some demonstrations can be remembered for the disasters that seemed to surround them and others for the perfection of execution of everything that was carried out.

In the next issue I will relate my experiences at some demonstrations and continue with the story of my training in Karate and the story of the Sevenoaks Karate Club that was to become the centre for the Shinseido movement.

Postscript One

In the event, I did not write any more notes down at that time. Other more pressing things got in the way. It is now more than twelve years later. I know I have forgotten all but the most significant aspects of my training now. While the forgoing is all rather mundane it does accurately describe the type of training that I received. Perhaps sometime in the future, if I have time, I will jot down what I can still remember of the old days.

Shinsei August 1993

Postscript Two

It is now well over twenty years since the foregoing events took place. Reading the notes today, I realise that if they have any value at all it is for those of my students who begin to think that the way is so terribly hard that it is not worth continuing in training. We all go through times when we feel that it is not worth the effort, moments when we feel unable to live up to our rank or have second thoughts about entering for a grading examination. For every hundred students who embark on the wonderful and extraordinary path that is Karatedo only one will stay the course, that one person can so easily be you.