The Vigilante - Bonny Sartin
I started writing the occasional song for The Yetties many years ago. I think the first was one called The Storyteller and that appeared in a song book called Out In The Green Fields for Oak Publications in 1974. Since then when the mood takes me or when someone commissions a few verses for a particular project I have added to the collection of ditties. When we did a series called Hoedown for BBC TV (a sort of it’s A Knockout for teams of young farmers) the producer actually if I would write for the Beeb. I can remember Jim Lloyd, our manager, taking me along to the meeting. He was nervous because he thought the group might break up if I accepted the offer and I was nervous because, at the time, I thought I might have offended someone. Anyway, there was no way I was going to give up the band and absolutely no chance of me moving to London to be near the centre of operations. Jim and I both came away from the conference feeling much relieved.
The ‘Rustic Rhymes’ came much later. I get a real kick from writing them and an even bigger one when I can see an audience reacting to the images set in front of them. After a talk to a group WI. Meeting down near Taunton a while ago I, as usual, asked if there were any questions. One lady in the front row immediately stuck her hand in the air and said: ‘Well, it’s not really a question but if you don’t mind me saying so, you’ve never grown up, have you?’ To which I had absolutely no answer. Perhaps she was right and if that is the case then I don’t think I’ll bother at this late stage in life.
Most of the items on this CD don’t need any explanation at all so there is little point in doing extensive notes but here are a few clues as to why I’ve written one or two of the more obscure tracks.
I do various historical talks to different organisations in the area and sometimes, if there isn’t an appropriate song to illustrate a point I write one. Bound For The Breakers Yard is one of these. It’s for a lecture I do about the sailing ship ‘Grace Harwar’. For 46 years she tramped the oceans of the world, rounding Cape Horn on numerous occasions. Coal from Wales, grain from Australia, guano from Chile or beating around the world in ballast looking for a cargo, it was all the same to her, She went to the breakers yard in 1936 after a very eventful career.
Harvest Festival (Health & Safety) was written in reply to my twin sister’s humorous sketch about the Health and Safety Officers visit to her church at Harvest Festival time. Dangerous thing apples and pears and those tin cans can roll around all over the place and pumpkins, well, they’re an absolute nightmare.
The one thing you must not mention if you go to the Isle of Portland is rabbits. You can call them anything else but the R word is banned. The theory is that rabbits undermine the stone layers and make them unsafe to work. Strong teeth them rabbits. I thought this a little tough on our likeable and tasty furry friends hence A Portland Protest.
Sometimes the thought processes are triggered by just listening with half an ear to other peoples conversations. I know you shouldn’t do it but at times you just can’t avoid hearing what’s going on. Some years ago I was sat in a cafe in Sherborne when two rather loud ladies at a nearby table started talking about their mutual friends. They discussed one particular family who had all been into different scams and after pulling them apart one after the other they came to the decision that despite all the problems they were ‘A frightfully sound family’. Hence The Gormley-Smythes.
The Somerset & Dorset railway line wasn’t with us very long. It opened on the 1st of September, 1862 and was closed by the infamous Dr. Beeching in 1966. There was uproar when the closure was proposed and bitter words are still used today. The Old S & D commemorates the Slow & Dirty or Swift and Delightful.
We flew back overnight after a tour of Newfoundland in 1996. I was dozing at dawn when the Canadian lady in the window seat alongside got quite excited, nudged me in the ribs and said, ‘What’s that down there’. I looked out and there, below me were the early rays of the sun just breaking over the complete length of The Chesil Beach in all it’s glory. I got quite excited as well. ‘That’s Dorset down there’, I said, ‘That’s My Home.’ Hopefully, anyone who knows the county will recognise the places mentioned.