The Admiral, Rock Ferry. June 30
A sleeping giant in a forgotten land.
That’s The Admiral a marvellous pub brimming with maritime history.
It looks out over the Mersey amid the leafy tumbledown splendour of Rock Park and adjacent to the old pier served the residents of this once well to do area.
Duuuur, hence the name Rock Ferry.
The pier’s now delapidated metal frame snakes out like a crooked accusing finger towards the gasometer in The Dingle across the way.
Heathens who can’t sniff the romance that wafts off our great river may scoff at such perverse beauty but there’s a faded glory about a place which has been cut off and left to bask, lost in time, thanks to the bypass which bisects Rock Ferry in two.
At its apex stands the pub, which if he had still been alive, would have been the local of the great 19th century American author Nathaniel Hawthorne, the gate post for whose now long gone villa lies a stone’s throw away. Old Nat used to double up as the US consul based in Liverpool and every day he would march to the landing stage and ferry cross the Mersey to his work in Rumford Place.
Truth be told if he was still around he would have commented that the old Admiral’s currently flakey exterior could do with a wash and brush-up.
But as Lady Penelope of Pensby and Yours Truly pulled up in FAB 1 and walked inside that appeared to be precisely what was in hand.
Gill Evans, who took over the place a year ago, is attempting to get the place ship-shape with a little help from her Mum Marilyn McDougal and friends.
“We haven’t got much money but everyone’s chipping in - we’ve always loved this place and we want to turn it into a lovely family pub,� said Marilyn, with the smell of wet paint duly hanging in the air.
She added that with two yacht clubs nearby the pub had many faithful regulars plus some ordinary landlubbers, three friendly examples of whom were there as we spoke: Steve Atkinson, Len Griffiths and Gary Behn.
“I discovered this pub 30 years ago and have been coming ever since - we call it the glue pot,� explained Len, who added that the pub’s real ale - what he called “twiggy beer� - was well up to scratch.
Unfortunately when we visited they were waiting for delivery but a day later the cavalry had arrived. Among the beers on offer was one of the Pub Column’s uber faves, the rich Jekyll’s Gold and Sam Smith’s in a real oak cask as well as draught Hydes, something called Kalt, plus the usual suspects, Stella, Carling and Becks.
But of course we’re never just here for the beer - and the pub’s itself is pretty awesome. It has a huge wooden bar, so long you’d have to lay five blokes as tall as me end to end to cover it - and I’m “a big lod� as Eddie Waring would have said.
|t also has a spacey lounge sporting views out over the desolate beach and jetty, a snug/dining area and a large beer garden complete with gazebo for Puffing Billys who will have to smoke outside from tomorrow. There’s the obligatory complement of of ghosts too, one of whom haunts the Gents and is wont to whack the unsuspecting round the earhole as they point percy at the porcelain.
The piece de resistance is a spacious bar with a stunning collection of framed pictures of the Ferry of yesteryear.
Nuff said.
So, are you ready to Rock?
Awright then, lets go!!!!
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Mike Chapple
Just a point of interest..my great grandfather,John Slack, one of the local fishermen,he had moorings off the old slipway with his boat "The Eva" was also on the salvage corps. The bell that rang for "time" in the bar of "The Admiral"was salvaged from one of the wrecks in the Mersey by my great great grandfather, and her gave it to the manager at the time..The name of the ship escapes me now and I always intended to nip in to the pub and have a look at it. What a sorry surprise to learn from the Wirral Globe about the closure of the pub.I wonder what happened to the ships bell....
I spent my childhood "down the shore" with all the other kids and well remember "Dunnies", The Rock Tap and the splendid "Rock Hotel"
Me again!!!
So many memories have come flooding back to me of Rock Ferry.Someday I really must write everything down because I was so familiar with the area and the people.
My great grandparents lived to a very old age and I seem to have retained in my head so many little things that they told me..
I remember the picture houses, the pubs
the streets and the people.Ionic Street School, the ships on the river, the noise from Cammell Laird where my Dad worked,sneaking in to the garden of the Royal Yacht Club in the snow to slide down the garden dip,and pinching apples from "Cookies". Walking down the tracks from Bonds ship repairs to the dreaded gully at the end where the small boats were launched,all very daring stuff to kids.
So many things.
Mr Slack and family lived in Pitt St, Rock Ferry. We shared the same 'back alley'. As a little boy, I was often sent to Ma Slacks for 6 pennies worth of flukes, straight off the boat.
"As many as you can get on your plate, my lad" was the measure Mrs Slack used. I often watched Mr Slack moor up at the low-water mark, then row to the pier, with his fish catch.
You could see his boat from St Paul's Rd., for it was so anchored 'in-line'.
Within the hour, my mum would have our purchase gutted and frying in the pan. A meal fit for a king. I'm not sure now of his son and daughter's name now.....Brenda? Donny?....If only we could turn the clock back...Hard times,,,But wonderful in their own special way. Who remembers playing in 'The crack'?...The brick air raid shelters there and in Pitt St. The bomb dropped in Earl St. The landmine in Well Lane. The spitfire crashing in the allotments on the shore. The barrage balloon. The 'Pom-pom gun NC Rd...Ma Johnson's rag shop on New Chester Rd. Well Lane laundry...so many memories...faiding.
p.s Is there anyone out there who attended Wesley Hall sunday school? (Marne Street)
Leslie Hughes (Pope), Brunswick St. Mildred Humphries, Livingstone St.'Babs Jones'Peel St.
Mr Heaps was our sunday school superintendant. His devotion will never be forgotten.
Hiya, Pat.
Nice to see that you still remember good ol' Rock Ferry. Happy days!
All the best,
Uncle Alex.
It's so nice to see a few who remember how Rock Ferry used to be. I lived in Howson Street and was always playing down the shore, even though it was only about 20 feet of sand in the '50s. My mum & dad would be in Dunnies and me and the other kids would be waiting for our bottle of pop and bag of crisps with the salt in a little blue paper twist. We would play for hours there and not in any danger. I looked at Rock Ferry on Google Earth the other day and nearly all my chilhood places have gone but oh, the things I remember. The Bobby on school duty at the bottom of Gothic Street, some girls playing two balls under the St.Pauls road railway bridge, the Echo office and all the shops in New Chester Road and Bedford road, Rock Ferry station and the electric trains you could jump off before they had stopped (Health & Safety eat your heart out), the haunted letter box in Rock Park,the rag & bone man with his horse drawn cart and a guy selling fresh caught fluke from a barrow, and the council would come round and lay fresh tar and stones and we couldn't roller skate for ages till the traffic had smoothed it all out again. I have lived in Leicestershire since 1984 and have not been back since 1997 but when I do I will take my daughter down to Dunnies for a drink but inside this time.