A tale of marine misfortune from our cub reporter Angus Young.
Widely regarded as being one of the world’s most dangerous jobs, it’s little wonder that superstition was rife in Hull’s deep-sea fishing community. From wives refusing to wave farewell to trawlers leaving St Andrew’s Dock to fishermen who avoided the colour of green at all costs, lucky omens good or bad were passed down through the generations. Even seemingly innocuous acts such as sneezing could carry a message. Turning your head to the left while sneezing was regarded by some as back luck on the next trip. In some homes, wives would even burn new brooms to produce a favourable breeze to bring their loved ones home safely.
Hull author and historian Alec Gill charts many of these tales in his book Superstition: Folk Magic in Hull’s Fishing Community but one can only wonder what Hessle Roaders made of Hull’s unluckiest address back then.
Today Liverpool Street is occupied by industrial units but during the heyday of the fishing industry it was lined with terraced housing and was just a short walk away from the dock itself. Even with all that had been written about the loss of life at sea during those years, it’s still difficult to comprehend a series of human losses experienced by those living at Number 24. For in the space of just 39 years, five men who called the house their home died in separate tragedies at sea.
The toll began in 1911 when 23-year-old George Smith was drowned during a trip to the Barents Sea on the steam trawler British Empire. A newspaper report on his death said: “Smith, who was a spare hand, was helping to shoot the gear when his foot was caught in the bight of the quarter rope and he was pulled overboard. The unfortunate man was hauled out of the sea in the trawl but was dead. The body was taken ashore subsequently on the Norwegian coast and reverently buried, a crowd of people living in the district attending the funeral.”
Four years later George’s elder brother Frederick, 30, was lost on another steam trawler, the Commander Boyle. Out on only its second fishing trip, it was sunk by a mine. Two other crew members died in the incident.
The next tragedy struck the family in 1925 when mate Daniel Smith was lost with the rest of the 14-man crew of the steam trawler Axinite. She was last heard of fishing off the Icelandic coast. Back at 24 Liverpool Street, his mother was now mourning another son lost at sea. “My son Daniel has spent all his working life at sea. I’m afraid I have little hope of good news now,” she said. Remarkably, the three deaths followed the earlier loss of a fourth son when the family lived elsewhere in Hull.
By 1934 the Shears family were living at Number 24 when the Hull trawler Loch Ard was lost with all hands while fishing off Iceland. Skipper Bill Shears had been at the helm. Seven members of the crew had been married and the trawler’s loss left 22 children fatherless. Skipper Shears’ widow Beatrice continued living at the house and she later re-married but fate would soon leave her mourning once again. In 1940 her new fisherman husband John Thompson was killed when the Aberdeen-based trawler Sansonnet was sunk by enemy aircraft off the Shetland Islands with the loss of all hands.
The sad chain of events connected to Number 24 has been pieced together by Jerry Thompson, chairman of the Hull Bullnose Heritage Group which runs the Hull Fishing Heritage Centre in Hessle Road. A former trawlerman himself, his mother’s father was also lost on the Loch Ard. Jerry said: “This all came about when I put the lost trawlemens’ surnames into the streets they were lost from to create a new database. It took me about two years and I am still finding new lost trawlermen in our research who are not on the original city lists. My mother’s father was lost in 1934 on the Loch Ard when she was 13-years-old. As a young lad, she would always talk to me about her father.”
Overall, an estimated 6,000 trawlermen who sailed from Hull lost their lives at sea.