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Vol. 3, 1950

An afternoon with Charlie Phillips

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It wasn't until the next day, when I attempted the identical
round on my own, that I discovered that each hole, despite all the
elaborate machinery for re-identification, had obliterated all recol-
lection of the previous one that in fact all the holes had merged
into one vague composite idea of hole-ness that had neither material
reality nor a local habitation. I suspect there was a twinkle in Charlie's
eye whenever he asked that recurrent question, Think you'll remem-
ber this one ? I thought of the assurance about Goat's Hole given
to one of our members by another, You can't miss it
Things went better with lobster holes, for they are larger and
more characteristic, easier to recognise when you stumble across them.
You know a crab-tenancy by the feel and sound of his shell a lobster,
having more room to manoeuvre, grabs your hook with his claw.
But you still have to turn him into a displaced person, which is less
easy, especially as most of us tend to make a strategic withdrawal
when such a strangely-built piece of armour darts between our bare
legs backwards. Once you get excited, says Charlie, you've lost your
lobster. Just coax him to the edge of the pool, where your waiting
left hand can gently seize the one part of his body which makes you
invulnerable. You needn't be afraid Charlie hasn't been nipped
in over fifty years, though on one occasion, when carrying a bagful
of crabs on his back, he lost a piece of his waistcoat. And Charlie
once got a lobster weighing nearly eight pounds.
My excursions with Charlie were both entertaining and instructive,
but I am indebted to him most for showing me one lobster-hole that
nearly always yields a victim without having to play with the con-
founded thing when I'm up to my neck in a pool. It's what he calls
a trap," a small basin with no direct channel leading to a larger
pool or even to the sea. Any father who has returned weary and
empty-bagged to his waiting family, with his children running to
lisp their sire's return while all the other families on the beach hear
their shouts of Got anything, Dad ? will know how grateful I am
to Charlie for the one single hole I remembered, that better 'ole
which has so often saved me the ignominy of the most depressing of
replies, No, lad, nothing doing today."
Elis Jenkins.
The National Parks and Access to the Countryside Act (1949)
Part IV, lays on County Councils the statutory duty of producing maps
with all the public footpaths of the county marked upon them. As a
preliminary, a survey has to be carried out and for this the County
Council has to rely principally on the Parish Councils. In Glamorgan,
the Parish Councils were directed in the summer of 1950 to submit
six-inch to the mile maps of their parishes showing the paths regarded
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