Newsletter - Issue 30

A Gruesome Find

In the autumn of 1931 money was scarce, so many economic ploys were pursued. Those fortunate enough to own boats took advantage of the free fuel in the form of planks that passed by on every tide.

So it was that Uncle George Tate and I on a rare Sunday morning decided to go 'wooding' . Our plan was thus - George would proceed in his boat "Squid", a long, narrow, fast, but unstable boat. I was to follow in mine, "Lynx", a beamery and more suitable craft. If there was not enough flotsam, George, quite illegally, would saw some branches down, smearing the raw cut with earth and push the fallen branches into the water.

But this time he was unaware that his activities were being observed by the entire Police force of nearby Cargreen in the shape of one policeman. Crime being at a premium, the policeman must have been elated. He was about to make a name, probably reciting with glee, the ritual of arrest.

At that moment George espied a large floating object coming down on the ebbing tide. Voices travel far over water and George's voice boomed out his sighting to me. The policeman at this juncture must have decided two arrests would probably merit a mention in the "Saltash Gazette."

Meanwhile I approached the 'log' and was horrified to discover it was a body. I swung the boat around using the flat stern to nudge the body toward Cave beach, a manoeuvre, by pushing the oars instead of pulling, locally known as shearing.

George was rubbing his hands at the prospect of a large log. As I neared the shore he realised what it was. Although barely recognisable, he established that it was Mr X (I refrain from naming him for his family's sake). At this point, the policeman swooped on seeing the body. He took charge, our conviction, thank goodness, forgotten. He bid us take the body to Brunel Green, where he would arrange reception.

We tied our boats up line ahead, George's boat leading. Of course there was quite a stench. George, in his haste to light up, dropped his matches in the water. At thirteen, I did not smoke, but we chewed the tobacco from a cigarette, and I passed a rope around the body. A small crowd awaited us at Brunel Green. The ambulance cart was there, and they put a large rubber sheet under the body. On lifting the body from the water, the corpse emitted an audible grunt, which gave me a few nightmares.

To intrigue the members of the Saltash Heritage, the nephew of Mr. X was a well known Saltash personality, who had Heritage connections.

Written by Norman Ash

Saltash Heritage, 17 Lower Fore Street, Saltash, Cornwall, PL12 6JQ --- Tel: 01752 848466 --- Email: info@saltash-heritage.org.uk --- Registered Charity No. 297525