This record was composed by my father, Gordon Burnham Lee, 1920- 2004. His father, Henry James Burnham Lee, was employed by the General Steam Navigation Company. See How it all started for more details.
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It is early on a warm summer Sunday morning, and Dad and I are in the garden. Sunday is the only whole day in the week he has off. "What about a trip on the Royal Eagle, Dad?" "You don't seem to realise that, by the time I've taken you and your Mother on the bus to Southend and back, a train up and down the pier, lunch on board (my father did get staff prices for lunch) for the three of us, and tea and biscuits in the afternoon, I don't see much change from a pound." I point out how much good the trip would do us and what a lovely day it is for it. Finally he agrees to ask Mother, who says that we ought to go to church. I say that missing one Sunday now and then is all right. Anyway somehow I get my way, and we leave home suitably dressed for a Sunday.
We catch an open-top bus, which takes us the three miles to the pier entrance. We travel mostly along the sea front, but unfortunately on the way we pass the church which we usually attend. Faces are averted until we are safely past. Dad's pass for the Eagle Steamers also gives us admission to the pier, but not the pier trains. These are the 'toast-rack' variety, open except for one enclosed carriage. As this is a fine day, we ride in the open. Many people are walking up the pier, others are fishing as the tide is in. As soon as we get off the train, we hear the representatives from the various shipping companies (Eagle and Belle steamers, Palace and Medway steamers) handing out leaflets and trying to out-shout each other, extolling the benefits of travelling by their steamers.
Mr. Thomas, the G.S.N.C. agent, takes us the front of the pier, instead of having to join the queue, one of several where passengers await the arrival of their particular steamer. Deck chairs are provided, from which we watch the "Royal Eagle" approach through the summer haze. At a signal from the ship's bridge, the ship's name pennant on the foremast and the Company's flag on the main, are unfurled, simultaneously. The Company's flag also has a point, as Captain Branthwaite is Commodore of the G.S.N.C. fleet. The paddle wheels go astern, lines are thrown and caught and the mooring ropes pulled in and secured, while the capstans are turning to finish the settling of the boat against the pier. Gangways are rolled out from the pier and, bidding goodbye to Mr. Thomas, we are the first on board after the passengers for Southend have disembarked.
Dad's pass gives us admission the Sun Deck (2/6d. extra for ordinary passengers) and deck chairs are secured. As soon as all the passengers are on board the bow rope is let go while the capstan tightens the stern rope, thus turning the bow away from the pier. The stern rope is let go, the telegraph rings, the paddles start to turn, and we are on our way.
Not being a great one for sitting still, I make an 'inspection' of the ship, pausing for several minutes to watch the mighty engines. Mum and Dad stay put until, after a chat with Captain Branthwaite in his cabin, as we pass Herne Bay, we go down to lunch. The chef wears a tall white hat and carves from a long table in the centre of the saloon. From the saloon windows (port holes only at the bow end of the saloon) we can watch the Kent coast passing in the distance.
On returning to the Sun Deck, we can see the white cliffs of Birchington and soon we are tying up at Margate Jetty. Alongside the jetty is the "Golden Eagle" which has come down earlier, and is awaiting the time for taking her passengers for a sea trip to the Goodwin Lightship. On many earlier occasions we have travelled on her. We do not land at Margate, but stay on for the end of the trip, which is Ramsgate. We round the North Foreland, with its white lighthouse on the cliff, and turn south to Ramsgate harbour, where on arrival a black ball is hoisted on the quay to show that a steamer is alongside, and will soon be leaving the harbour again.
As soon as the disembarking and embarking of passengers is completed, with three blasts of the whistle, we cast off and proceed astern through the harbour entrance. We now start our journey in reverse; it never seems to me quite so exciting as being outward bound. We are soon at Margate Jetty again, picking up the passengers we dropped earlier, before leaving on our return journey to Southend. Nearing the Essex Coast, we see in the distance the "Crested Eagle" returning to Southend from Clacton. A race to the pier begins, which, as usual, the "Crested" wins, having the extra knot from her superb engines.
Having landed on the pier, I want to wait to watch the ships departing for London, but am hustled to the train station to catch the train ashore. Once again we travel home on the sea front bus, and all too soon we are home once more, my face burning from the sun and wind. After an evening meal it's off to bed which seems to rock me gently to sleep. G Burnham Lee.