Family Of Four: 41 - The Dangerous Coast
...Daddy had worked so fast and so strenuously that he was completely exhausted and lay on the sands gasping, the tiger stripes of his bathing suit rising and falling with his hurried breathing, until Mummy and I became concerned. And not one single member of the party thanked us!...
Mrs Vivien Hirst tells of a seaside rescue.
Mrs Hirst's memories were gathered into a book by her nephew Raymond Prior. To read earlier chapters of her story please click on that title in the menu on this page.
Auntie owned a large house at Birkdale which she occupied during a change of tenants, and, to help her, Daddy rented it from her for a month and took us there for a holiday, Auntie, of course, remaining with us.
We were fascinated by her hair, debating whether it was a wig. It was of a warm brown colour and wavy, but something seemed to be not quite real. We each decided we would study it and if one of us discovered it was a wig, we would pass on the news!
On an exceptionally warm day, Auntie, quite unconscious of the frequent looks fastened upon it from four pairs of eyes, could not resist scratching a tickle caused by the heat, and to our great joy and delight the lifting by her finger revealed that it was, unmistakably, a wig. Wigs and false teeth were unmentionables in those days, and to our knowledge we had never seen one before.
The coast at Birkdale was spoiled, in our opinion, by the sea receding miles and miles away, or so it appeared, until it was lost to sight, leaving only sandbanks and gleaming channels. This intrigued us, and we decided to walk until we found the sea.
Taking off our sandals we went gaily forward, splashing happily through the water, running over the next bank, on, and on, and on. We began to think that we never should discover it, and perhaps it was as well we were deterred by the sand suddenly squelching too deeply for comfort.
With a cry of "Quicksands!" we started to run back. It was astonishing the distance we had covered and we arrived home very late for tea. Daddy was distressed when he heard what we had tried to do, and made us each promise never to attempt such a thing again.
A tragedy occurred which made the danger seem very real. Three young brothers were bathing by the pier at Southport, which had the same physical characteristics as we knew at Birkdale, when they became trapped in treacherous mud, and were drowned. It quite spoiled Daddy's holiday and was constantly on his mind, the more vividly because of the lucky escape we had had.
I had a picture in my mind of four pairs of sandals lying far up on the beach, the only clue as to what had happened to the four of us if the sea had tumbled in over the horizon, trapping us, and we had never been seen again!
It was certainly a dangerous coast. One day Daddy and I had finished our bathe and were running along the beach for a warm-up when a party of trippers, whom Daddy had warned not to linger on the sandbank as the sea flowed in so quickly, became surrounded.
Daddy, turning to run back, perceived the danger immediately, and calling and waving he urged them all to come in. They took not the slightest notice, so we plunged into the deepening water and on to the sandbank. Daddy passed backwards and forwards carrying a woman on each journey.
I helped mothers with prams and young children, and it was amazing in what a very short time the in-rushing sea would have made it difficult for non-swimmers to escape. We only just helped the people off in time
Daddy had worked so fast and so strenuously that he was completely exhausted and lay on the sands gasping, the tiger stripes of his bathing suit rising and falling with his hurried breathing, until Mummy and I became concerned. And not one single member of the party thanked us!
