Dot and Sam 2

Dorothy Philpot. Landlady of The Harbour Light pub
Sam Philpot. Drag-queen.
Billy Parkins Doorkeeper.
Jessica Merlot The town’ and county archaeologist. (Jessie)
Josephine MacDonald The town and county archivist
(Joe)
Richard Drummond Town planning inspector
Robert Vincent. Junior planning inspector.

The Friday evening after the Town Planning inspector’s visit, Dot spotted Jessie and Joe in the front of the queue for the drag show. As she often did before opening the doors, she chatted at length with Billy the doorkeeper. She and Billy recognised the regulars as they strolled along the queue then Dot stopped beside the two county historians.

“Come to see how the other half lives girls?” Dot smiled.

“Surely all these won’t squeeze into the pub.” Jessica observed.

“Nah, lot’s will sit outside at the tables. It’s a nice warm night.”

“I didn’t realised there was such a large LGBT crowd in the town.”

“Yes, it’s Friday and Saturday nights that keep the pub afloat financially. Lots of out-of-towner’s though. The parking in the basin makes it poplar with visitors and the basin is away from the straight clubbing venues in town.”

“Where’s Sam?”

“Getting ready with the other girls. I’ll see you inside. D’you want me to reserve you some seats on the balcony.”
“I thought it was first come – first served.” Joe wondered.

“Landlady’s privilege. I’ll see you inside.” Dot threw over her shoulder as she continued checking out the queue.

As ever there were many cross-dressers and trans-gendered clientele whom Dot mostly recognised and she grinned a welcome which they returned happily.

After checking the queue, Dot returned inside, checked with the ‘girls’ and took her place behind the bar. Soon the Harbour Light was rocking to the music of the drag show as all the staff busied themselves with the frenetic job of serving food and drinks while at the bar, some patrons also served themselves at the bar.

Finally as the dawn sun had already risen, the Harbour light closed its doors to the evening crowd and Dot snatched a couple of hours before the cleaners appeared to prepare the pub for its daytime restaurant function. The cleaners let themselves in as Dot crawled out of bed and slowly the Harbour Light came to life again. At ten o’ clock, she emerged in her overall and tabard just as her regular waitress was setting out the Saturday morning lunch tables.

At noon she noted a booking for twelve diners and they turned up punctually as the restaurant was getting busy. Dot was surprised to recognise Richard and Bob acting as hosts to the party.

“Hello again,” Dot welcomed them. “I didn’t expect to see you again so early.”

“Well, we’ve got a little guilty secret,” Richard confessed. “These ladies and gentlemen comprise the council’s town planning committee. We’ve been watching this basin area for some time and we were seriously considering razing the area for housing but the way you’ve turned the Harbour light around has led the council to consider the second option to re-open the basin. Your pointing out the old connection to the Canal is what did it. The council has been wracking it’s brains to find some way of reconnecting the canal to the old dock and the river but your deeds finally cleared the way.
All the old plans of the old basin were lost in the Blitz and your deeds opened the door. They even showed the borders and boundaries of the
waste ground where the old locks led down to the basin from the ancient canal head. There’s no doubts now about ownership and the way is clear for the council to purchase the land to re excavate and reopen the earlier ancient locks.”

“Am I right in thinking you’ll be excavating the basin into the river again?” Dot asked.

“Hopefully,” one of the councillors interjected.” “Though sadly the old town dock does not own the land comprising Harbour Street. We’re having a problem determining the ancient title. Sometimes these land titles go way,- way back and they’re impossible to trace.”

Dot chuckled as Sam let out an amused snort. Dot explained.

“Well if you’re looking to reconnect the ancient basin to the canal and the river then you need look no further Councillor. Have you not studied the deeds to The Harbour Light yet?”

“We haven’t had a chance yet. We only got them yesterday morning from yourself. Our legal department will only get to study them on Monday.”

“Ah! Of course,” Dot chuckled again, “the delights of nine-to-five working. Well as I said, you need look no further. Freehold to the basin belongs to the Harbour light which is an ancient riparian water right going back to Domesday Book. When they filled the basin in to create Harbour Street they created an easement over the recovered land and that’s what all the trading businesses enjoyed. But as all these businesses closed down to move down river, the easement fell into abeyance and if the basin is excavated again, the riparian rights to the water in the basin are returned to the Harbour Light pub.”

The councillors fell silent and Dot savoured the uncertainty before relieving their misery.

“Don’t get too worried ladies and gentlemen. It’s in the deeds, in the fourth section of the eighteenth-century deeds when they needed hard landing by the river. To board troops and weapons I believe. The riparian rights were suspended but never annulled. The Latin says in perpetuity.”

There was a noticeable ripple of relief and Dot felt a tug of mischief at her gut.

“So ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure that we can re-excavate the basin and for a small docking fee, boats can travel between the river and canal again as William the Bastard agreed.”

“William the Bastard?” One of the councillors asked.

“She means William the conqueror,” Richard, the senior planning inspector explained with a slight smile, ”you know, ten-sixty-six and all that.”

“Good God! Does this place go that far back?” The councillor pressed.

“There’s an inn listed on this piece of rock in the Dooms-day book.” Sam smirked as she came out with the first plates of food and started serving the councillors. “It was one of the few bits of secure high ground that survived the river’s meandering. Once the inn was built, it was an easy step to start building a basin by dredging down to whatever rock they could locate and found the earliest basin walls upon it. It was a sure anchor in a whole swathe of moveable sandbanks and mud.

Once the pub and the mole for the basin entrance were fixed then, ever so slowly, the river path stabilised up stream and the town came to settle on the upstream banks. Some of the oldest buildings just up-stream from the old dock, are still set on wooden piles. They’re well preserved by the mud because the basin walls fixed them in the mud down to the rock.

As the councillors started to eat, a familiar land-rover appeared and the two county historians, Jessica and Josephine emerged. Dot stepped back from attending the councillors table.
“Couldn’t keep away ladies?” Dot grinned.

“We were invited to the meal but we had to wait for copies of the documents to be sent from Exeter and London. Jeeze, this pub is in the Doomsday book.”

“We’ve just found that out, the councillors chorused.” However they eagerly snatched the copies that Jessie and Joe distributed.

“Thank god for the internet,” Jessie grinned to Dot. “How’s the meeting gone?”

“It looks like there’s progress but you lot are going to be busy. There’s a huge amount of excavation.”

“Oh?” Jessies eyes widened excitedly.

“Yes,” Richard the town planner replied. “If all parties can agree it looks as though we’ll be excavating the old basin and reopening the medieval locks up to the old canal. It’s the only option, short of tearing down the new town hall.”

“Suite’s me,” Dot added, “a dozen narrow boats all queuing up in the basin to await the canal lock means lots of people wanting to eat and drink. I reckon that’s how the inn got started. Boats securing to the rock for a chance to rest.

With some historic buildings around the basin and discreet parking where the old sand berth is walled off behind some old coaching style gates this place could become a picture postcard feature for the town.”

Richard the town planner’s eyes brightened. It wasn’t often his people got a chance to re-create a medieval town-scape. He even took out a sketchbook and started doodling at the table as the councillors chatted enthusiastically.

Eventually, a consensus was reached to re-excavate the old basin, excavate the old flight of locks and excavate the two lock pounds where some greening could be returned with a picnic area and permanent seating. By the time the consensus was reached, Richard had sketched out a rough idea of the layout and it certainly did promise a really attractive location. Dot had even managed to agree a provisional swap of the ownership of the opposite side of the basin for the ownership of the first whare-house between her pub and the sand wharf carpark.

“What’s the benefit to us?” Sam asked Dot.

“Have you ever been inside that whare-house.” Dot asked Sam.”

“Well let me tell you. It houses the old stables with the stalls and mangers still intact. It will make a very attractive dining area and parking area. The old ostler’s loft was built for the ostler to live in over the horses way back and I’ve always kept a key handy because the old chandlers who used to own it asked me to keep an eye on it. It’s the only whare-house and stables that evaded the depredations of the scrap merchants and dealers.

It’s a historic building inside and you can bet your bottom dollar Richard and the girls will have it listed in a flash when they see it. Come and look.”

So saying, Dot rooted to the very back of the metal key locker under the bar and pulled out another ancient key.

“I’ve often wondered what that was for.” Sam frowned.

“It’s the key to the double stable doors where next door opens onto the Old Dock. If you go and look you’ll find it’s in better nick than all the old doors on the other whare-houses. It’s the only whare house that has a large back door to the old dock and that’s why I would like to make it an extension to the pub.”

Having finished their inspection of the old Harbour street and taken note of clues that pointed to where the old basin walls and copingstones marked the extent of the Basin, the councillors were intrigued to actually see inside the only wholly intact whare-house on harbour street. Dot led them around the back of the whare-house to the old dock itself.

After unlocking the double doors she presented the old stable for view.

“As you see councillors, stables for six horses and the middle space is where the old heavy-duty horse drawn waggon used to be stored. Sadly, the old waggon is long gone. I believe it was used for all sorts of heavy draught work around the town. This old stable would make a perfect, period piece extension to The Harbour Light’s space which is somewhat restricted. We can of course keep the old fittings to create table niches, though the old cobbled-stone floor will have to be resurfaced and levelled for safety.”

Dot watched with satisfaction as she watched the whole party examining the space and nodding approval. Furthermore, the old stables opened both both ways onto the ancient basin plus the old dock thus improving fire safety access.

By late afternoon, a consensus had been reached that left Dot and Sam content that their hopes and plans would be approved. Dot knew from past experiences that if you left people to have large say in your plans and make them think that the ideas were theirs, it was an effective way to move forward.

For the following month she entertained a veritable procession of town planners, architects, civil engineers, archaeologists, historians and museum curators from various interested organisations who on learning of the history and potential of the ‘Old Harbour Street’ and the rediscovered ancient lock staircase, became ecstatic about the potential.

Three months later the planning permissions arrived through the Harbour Light’s letterbox and Dot and Sam eagerly studied the drawings.

“Well it’s pretty much as we imagined it. I like what they anticipate for the ancient flight of locks and I note that they’ve planned for a lock from the basin into the river. It’s much narrower than that the old tidal opening so that will improve the basin’s mooring capacity. I never thought to offset the new lock to provide herringbone moorings for seventy-foot narrow boats.” Dot enthused.

“They’ll have to excavate the old ancient flight first to determine what length those locks were originally.” Sam added.

“Well the canal doesn’t have any locks behind the town and the canal only extends but a dozen miles inland. Though there is potential to build an extension to the old Trenton Canal if that is ever re-opened.” Dot opined.

“Yeah, ever the dreamer,” Sam chuckled. “I Can’t see that ever happening.

“Not in my lifetime,” Dot lamented, “I love canals.”

Like all dreams and government plans. The planning and legal procedures took another nine months to complete and it was the spring of the following year before Dot and Sam began to see action.

On the agreed date, the councillors gathered for yet another ‘junket’ and amidst much fanfare the first excavations were started. It had been decided the excavate the ancient flight of locks first to determine any dimensions that could affect other work and to the delight of Richard and Bob the town planners, the excavations revealed that two seventy-foot locks could easily located where the ancient chambers used to sit. The canal trust also expressed their pleasure about the revealed space and a lottery grant quickly aided in the construction of the two locks.

Naturally the archaeologists were spread all over the whole site and the Harbour Light pub became the inevitable lunch-time gathering place where both navvies and academics mixed for meals and discussions. The Harbour Light saw a huge increase in revenue which contributed substantially the buying of the Stables for Dot and Sam’s expansion plans. ~~~~~~~~~~