In the News: The Last Months of 1977

In the News: 1977

Some stories from November and December 1977.

St Ouen’s Manor Changes Hands.

All change at St Ouen’s Manor in November 1977, when the Jurats appointed to conduct the financial affairs of Mr. Reginald Malet de Carteret, the disputed owner of St. Ouen's Manor, suggested the possibility of an arrangement between him and his elder brother Philip.

The dispute ended with Mr. Philip Malet de Carteret becoming the Seigneur of St. Ouen's Manor, taking the title which went to his younger brother Reginald on the death of his father. The dispute which has split one of the oldest families in the Island is virtually settled following a Royal Court case concerning Reginald's finances and his need to sell the manor.

In December, nearly 100 vergees of farmland owned by Mr. Reginald Malet de Carteret, who at the time was shortly to hand over the Seigneurship of St. Ouen to his elder brother, was up for sale by tender.

Tax Haven Jersey

In 1976 James Callaghan had succeeded to be Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, on the surprise resignation of Harold Wilson. The Labour government intensified its scrutiny of taxation and tax havens, and a Labour Party sub-Committee was set up to embark on a two-year investigation of taxation - and Jersey was to come under its scrutiny - the first of many such reviews.

Pensioner’s Christmas Bonus

In November, Senator Jim Scriven asked the States to pay a £20 Christmas bonus to Jersey's old age pensioners, and he lodged an amendment to Deputy Bobby Smale's £10 proposal.

Deputy Brian Troy wanted a Christmas bonus to also be given to widows and those in receipt of disability or attendance allowances, as well as to old-age pensioners.

But when the vote came early December, it was decided that Jersey's old-age pensioners would not get a Christmas bonus in 1977.

The possibility of an island-wide strike in protest at the States decision was being considered. But instead, a rally and march in protest at the States decision not to give pensioners a £10 Christmas bonus was mounted by the Transport and General Workers Union on December 13.

About 2,000 Islanders took part in the march from People's Park to the Royal Square in protest at the States decision not to pay pensioners a £10 Christmas bonus.

The Trade Unions stepped in to help, and in December Transport Union official Mr. Rene Liron said he would be handing out £10 notes to old-age pensioners on a first come, first served basis. The money would go to the first 80 old people who arrive at his New Street office by 10 am.

But the pot increased to £1,000, so that at least 100 pensioners received a £10 at the at the TGWU offices in New Street.

As the year drew to a close, moves were being made by States members to secure a regular Christmas bonus for Jersey's old-age pensioners, starting in 1978. This came to pass.

Now, of course, it has been restricted to be means tested, after nearly being scrapped. Plus ca change!

Care Homes under Scrutiny

Old people were also the subject of an investigation when letters calling for help have been dropped from upstairs windows at an old people's home, according to information passed to Deputy Arthur Carter. The claim was just part of a catalogue of stories of ill-treatment and bad conditions in some of the Island's private homes, licensed by the States.

Every member of the Public Health Committee was given a copy of Deputy Arthur Carter's list of complaints about Jersey's private old people's homes. "And if they don't like it, I will give a copy to every Member of the States," said Deputy Carter.

Traffic and Parking problems in Town

There is nothing new under the sun, as parking is lost to the waterfront development. St. Helier had no more parking space now than it had in 1971 said the Constable, Peter Baker. Extra space created by the building of car parks had been cancelled out by the loss of other areas. Mr Baker told the States that more needed to be done and described Jersey’s traffic problems as “St Helier’s Problems”

Meanwhile, plans for a comprehensive road improvement scheme in the town, including a second tunnel under Fort Regent, were scrapped.

I wonder how long it is before the "sunken road" idea currently on the development agenda is also quietly scrapped.

Peak Tourism

In December, Jersey's Tourism industry had "just about reached its peak," the Tourism Committee's president Senator Clarence Dupre told representatives of the British travel trade in London. He told tour operators, transport managers and travel trade journalists that Jersey's tourism figures have this year been five or six per cent up on 1976, with 800,000 British visitors and 300,000 from the Continent.

Back in those days, the Island's population almost doubled in the summer months, and there were plentiful hotels and small guest houses.

Law and Order

In November, it was decided that the two States Police Officers suspended from duty since last May, while allegations of perjury were investigated, were not to be charged.

A man died in November after he was hit by a car near the Bay View Hotel, St. Aubin's Road. This was the sixth road death in the Island this year.

The Assistant Magistrate, Mr. R. J. Short, criticized the management of a Le Riches supermarket for pressing a charge of shoplifting against a 78-year-old woman.

A former assistant head waiter at the Hotel de France was been charged with murdering his wife.

A 17-year-old youth who went to the La Collette area of St. Helier to attack homosexuals, yesterday asked the Royal Court if he could he birched instead of being sent to Borstal.

In early December at least three States departments and the Crown Office were interested in the status of a private school in Trinity which soon became the subject of a CID investigation. A complaint was made to the CID that students at Greylands School, housed in Highfield Hotel on the Route d'Ebenezer, had not been receiving adequate tuition. Police officers were now waiting for the students to provide documentation. -

Later in the month three pupils were removed from Greylands, the private hoarding school in Trinity, and taken into the care of the Children's Department. The children aged 14, 15 and 17 were foreign students staying at the Highfield Hotel, Trinity.

Some of the children at Greylands the private school based in a Trinity hotel, were within the ages of statutory education it was disclosed. The Director of Education, Mr. John Rodhouse, informed the school proprietors that he wished to know about the educational programme of these children if they were attending the school next term

Five people were taken to Police Headquarters in late December for drink driving tests - and most of them had been involved in road accidents.

The States Music Adviser, 41-year-old Derek Walters, was jailed for three months for publishing an obscene libel. Walters, of Waterloo Street, St. Helier, admitted two charges of showing two 14-year-old boys obscene magazines - magazines described in Court as "exceptionally filthy."

A horde of petrol bombs was been found in a derelict cottage at First Tower following CID investigations, and a 14-year-old youth was been interviewed, and the matter has been referred to HM Attorney General, Mr. V. A. Tomes. An early arrest was expected.

And a 15-year-old youth was also charged with manufacturing an explosive device. The youth is alleged to have unlawfully and maliciously manufactured an explosive device with intent to use it to endanger life or cause danger to property.

And Finally... New Year Honours

Two Jersey residents feature in the New Year Honours List for 1978. They were the Chief Officer of the States Police Force, Mr. Edward Cockerham, who becomes the first Jersey police officer to be awarded the Queen's Police Medal for Distinguished Service and Lt.-Cdr. Philip Le Marquand, who is made a member of the Order of the British Empire for his services to the Sea Cadet Corps.

A Bit More on Claude Russell

Daily Mirror - Claude's first engagement

I have thanks to my correspondent James, more information to share on Claude Russell the Churchwarden at St Aubin on the Hill, who featured in my blog:
http://tonymusings.blogspot.com/2016/12/claude-russell-and-other-parish-notes.html

My friend James found this for me:

Worth a look at the London Gazette website (www.thegazette.co.uk): that ought to have various of his promotions and decorations in. I got this from the 3 March 1914 issue:

The London Gazette from 3rd March 1914, has this under “Infrantry”

“The Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment), Claude Holland Russell, late Cadet Colour-Serjeant, Ardingly College Contingent, Officers Training Corps, to be Second Lieutenant (on probation). Dated 4th March, 1914.”

So as James points out, he was in the Army before the war even broke out. Similarly James found his promotion to Lieutenant on 2 February 1915 and to Captain on 3 September the same year.

From Ancestry James finds him baptised on 5 January 1897 at St Andrew, Barnsbury in Islington (which agrees with "The Pilot", recording his death at 81 in December 1977), and the register says he was born 14 October 1896. He was at Ardingly College at the 1911 Census. He married Barbara Yell in 1940 in Hendon registration district, and I think he may himself have been a widower at the time. He was living in Church Lane in Pinner for most of the 1930s and right up to about 1949.

So he must have come to Jersey some time after that, perhaps in the 1950s.

James has found his first marriage (pictured above) in the summer quarter of 1917 - the bride is listed as Frances K Allen. The Hooge action where he was wounded would have been in April/May 1915 as part of 2nd Ypres.

The marriage took place in the Rochford registration district - near to Southend. It is unknown if there was a divorce, or perhaps a death. Given the high incidence of deaths from influenza in 1919, that remains a possibility.

The marriage notice says: "Kitty Allen, daughter of Frank Allen,managing director of the Moss Empire, is to be married to Captain Claud Holland Russell, of the Royal Fusiliers, Special Reserve."

More on the Moss Empire

I have gleaned these background tit-bits of information on the Moss Empire, Frank Allen, and Kitty Allen.

On December 15th, 1899, Moss' Empires Limited was incorporated. The Company was originally formed to amalgamate ten smaller companies, namely The Edinburgh Empire Palace Limited, The Birmingham Empire Palace Limited, The Newcastle Empire Palace Limited, The Sheffield Empire Palace Limited, The Glasgow Empire Palace Limited, The Cardiff, Newport and Swansea Empire Palaces Limited, The Liverpool, Leeds and Hull Empire Palaces Limited, The Nottingham Empire Palace Limited, The London Hippodrome Limited and The London District Empire Palaces Limited.

Mr (later Sir Edward) H. E. Moss was the founder of the great chain of theatres that bore his name. The original Board of Directors of Moss' Empires Ltd., consisted of Messrs. H. E. Moss, Richard Thornton, Oswald Stoll and Frank Allen, with Mr. William Thomson as Secretary.

Mr Frank Allen was Managing Director from December, 1912 to December, 1919 when he retired due to ill health, but retained a seat on the board.

A notice on a show at the Olympic mentions Kitty Allen among the chorus girls. Perhaps Claude Russell came across Kitty Allen through attending the wartime shows.

The "Nottingham Evening Post," 21st October 1915, reports that:

''In every theatre in the United Kingdom to-night [21st October 1915] the managements will give 1o per cent. of the gross receipts taken on the doors to the funds of the British Red Cross Society, a loyal and patriotic undertaking which will undoubtedly produce splendid results. It remains for the public to do their share.

"At the Nottingham Theatre Royal Mr. Lewis Waller, who is appearing in "Gamblers All," will for this occasion give one of the stirring recitations in the delivery of which he admittedly stands alone, probably either the great speech from "Henry V.," or Rudyard Kipling's "Ballad of the Clampherdown." Programmes and autographed portraits of the famous actor will be sold by nurses of the Red Cross forthe benefit of the fund. “

“"Mr. Frank Allen, managing director of the Moss Empires, has brought the circuit of music halls which controls, including the Nottingham Empire, into line with the theatres, and will make the same contribution in the case of each house."

The Ian Gorst Portfolio of Expressions

By way of something light-hearted, do you notice how newspapers always manage to find an appropriate expression for the story.

I thought I'd look at several well-known politicians in this occasional series and look at the wide range of expressions displayed to the general public. Some look moody, fierce, happy, joyful, and indeed the whole gamut of emotions are often present. I'm starting with Chief Minister Ian Gorst.

An official occasion, looking slightly stressed.

Suit flapping in the breeze, looks as if he is facing up to bracing winds of change.

Jaw firmed up, making a strong point against critics.

The Statesman: Speaking from London

Election Night Joy!

Determined! Note that slight firming of jaw and mouth.

A press briefing, looking relaxed.

A rare and nice moment of informality and relaxation.

Question and Answers: Fighting Talk

A grip on reigns of power, or hanging on for grim death?

The Gorst Jaw: On the Defensive Again

Speaking just as the balloon went up

Standing for Senator: Serious and Youthful look

Arms folded, jaw thrust out. On guard!

A slightly worried expression. Furrowed brow.

Looking rather angry. Look at eyes and jaw.

A curious pose for an art magazine

A nice cheerful Chief Minister!

The Shop of Ghosts

"The Shop Of Ghosts" first appeared in London's Daily News. It was later collected into the book of essays "Tremendous Trifles", which is where I first read it, as I collected all the old second hand copies of Chesterton's essays that I could find, and often I found them in "Thesaurus", that marvellous Alladin's cave of second hand books.

It is one of my favourite pieces of Chesterton, with the flights of imagination at the start, and then the curious old toy shop, visited by the ghosts of famous people from the past, although there is nothing spectral about there appearances: it is as if Christmas is the point at which all times come together.

Whenever I get cynical, and think that Christmas is becoming too commercial, and the spirit of Christmas is dying away, this story, with great charm and warmth, acts as a good corrective.

The Shop of Ghosts
by G.K. Chesterton

Nearly all the best and most precious things in the universe you can get for a halfpenny. I make an exception, of course, of the sun, the moon, the earth, people, stars, thunderstorms, and such trifles. You can get them for nothing. Also I make an exception of another thing, which I am not allowed to mention in this paper, and of which the lowest price is a penny halfpenny. But the general principle will be at once apparent. In the street behind me, for instance, you can now get a ride on an electric tram for a halfpenny. To be on an electric tram is to be on a flying castle in a fairy tale. You can get quite a large number of brightly coloured sweets for a halfpenny. Also you can get the chance of reading this article for a halfpenny; along, of course, with other and irrelevant matter.

But if you want to see what a vast and bewildering array of valuable things you can get at a halfpenny each you should do as I was doing last night. I was gluing my nose against the glass of a very small and dimly lit toy shop in one of the greyest and leanest of the streets of Battersea. But dim as was that square of light, it was filled (as a child once said to me) with all the colours God ever made. Those toys of the poor were like the children who buy them; they were all dirty; but they were all bright. For my part, I think brightness more important than cleanliness; since the first is of the soul, and the second of the body. You must excuse me; I am a democrat; I know I am out of fashion in the modern world.

As I looked at that palace of pigmy wonders, at small green omnibuses, at small blue elephants, at small black dolls, and small red Noah's arks, I must have fallen into some sort of unnatural trance. That lit shop-window became like the brilliantly lit stage when one is watching some highly coloured comedy. I forgot the grey houses and the grimy people behind me as one forgets the dark galleries and the dim crowds at a theatre. 

It seemed as if the little objects behind the glass were small, not because they were toys, but because they were objects far away. The green omnibus was really a green omnibus, a green Bayswater omnibus, passing across some huge desert on its ordinary way to Bayswater. The blue elephant was no longer blue with paint; he was blue with distance. The black doll was really a negro relieved against passionate tropic foliage in the land where every weed is flaming and only man is black. The red Noah's ark was really the enormous ship of earthly salvation riding on the rain-swollen sea, red in the first morning of hope.

Every one, I suppose, knows such stunning instants of abstraction, such brilliant blanks in the mind. In such moments one can see the face of one's own best friend as an unmeaning pattern of spectacles or moustaches. They are commonly marked by the two signs of the slowness of their growth and the suddenness of their termination. The return to real thinking is often as abrupt as bumping into a man. Very often indeed (in my case) it is bumping into a man. But in any case the awakening is always emphatic and, generally speaking, it is always complete. 

Now, in this case, I did come back with a shock of sanity to the consciousness that I was, after all, only staring into a dingy little toy-shop; but in some strange way the mental cure did not seem to be final. There was still in my mind an unmanageable something that told me that I had strayed into some odd atmosphere, or that I had already done some odd thing. I felt as if I had worked a miracle or committed a sin. It was as if I had at any rate, stepped across some border in the soul.

To shake off this dangerous and dreamy sense I went into the shop and tried to buy wooden soldiers. The man in the shop was very old and broken, with confused white hair covering his head and half his face, hair so startlingly white that it looked almost artificial. Yet though he was senile and even sick, there was nothing of suffering in his eyes; he looked rather as if he were gradually falling asleep in a not unkindly decay. He gave me the wooden soldiers, but when I put down the money he did not at first seem to see it; then he blinked at it feebly, and then he pushed it feebly away.

"No, no," he said vaguely. "I never have. I never have. We are rather old-fashioned here."

"Not taking money," I replied, "seems to me more like an uncommonly new fashion than an old one."

"I never have," said the old man, blinking and blowing his nose; "I've always given presents. I'm too old to stop."

"Good heavens!" I said. "What can you mean? Why, you might be Father Christmas."

"I am Father Christmas," he said apologetically, and blew his nose again.

The lamps could not have been lighted yet in the street outside. At any rate, I could see nothing against the darkness but the shining shop-window. There were no sounds of steps or voices in the street; I might have strayed into some new and sunless world. But something had cut the chords of common sense, and I could not feel even surprise except sleepily. Something made me say, "You look ill, Father Christmas."

"I am dying," he said.

I did not speak, and it was he who spoke again.

"All the new people have left my shop. I cannot understand it. They seem to object to me on such curious and inconsistent sort of grounds, these scientific men, and these innovators. They say that I give people superstitions and make them too visionary; they say I give people sausages and make them too coarse. They say my heavenly parts are too heavenly; they say my earthly parts are too earthly; I don’t know what they want, I'm sure. How can heavenly things be too heavenly, or earthly things too earthly? How can one be too good, or too jolly? I don't understand. But I understand one thing well enough. These modern people are living and I am dead."

"You may be dead," I replied. "You ought to know. But as for what they are doing, do not call it living."

A silence fell suddenly between us which I somehow expected to be unbroken. But it had not fallen for more than a few seconds when, in the utter stillness, I distinctly heard a very rapid step coming nearer and nearer along the street. The next moment a figure flung itself into the shop and stood framed in the doorway. He wore a large white hat tilted back as if in impatience; he had tight black old-fashioned pantaloons, a gaudy old-fashioned stock and waistcoat, and an old fantastic coat. He had large, wide-open, luminous eyes like those of an arresting actor; he had a pale, nervous face, and a fringe of beard. He took in the shop and the old man in a look that seemed literally a flash and uttered the exclamation of a man utterly staggered.

"Good lord!" he cried out; "it can't be you! It isn't you! I came to ask where your grave was."

"I'm not dead yet, Mr. Dickens," said the old gentleman, with a feeble smile; "but I'm dying," he hastened to add reassuringly.

"But, dash it all, you were dying in my time," said Mr. Charles Dickens with animation; "and you don't look a day older."

"I've felt like this for a long time," said Father Christmas.

Mr. Dickens turned his back and put his head out of the door into the darkness.

"Dick," he roared at the top of his voice; "he's still alive."

Another shadow darkened the doorway, and a much larger and more full-blooded gentleman in an enormous periwig came in, fanning his flushed face with a military hat of the cut of Queen Anne. He carried his head well back like a soldier, and his hot face had even a look of arrogance, which was suddenly contradicted by his eyes, which were literally as humble as a dog's. His sword made a great clatter, as if the shop were too small for it.

"Indeed," said Sir Richard Steele, "'tis a most prodigious matter, for the man was dying when I wrote about Sir Roger de Coverley and his Christmas Day."

My senses were growing dimmer and the room darker. It seemed to be filled with newcomers.

"It hath ever been understood," said a burly man, who carried his head humorously and obstinately a little on one side (I think he was Ben Jonson) "It hath ever been understood, consule Jacobo, under our King James and her late Majesty, that such good and hearty customs were fallen sick, and like to pass from the world. This grey beard most surely was no lustier when I knew him than now."

And I also thought I heard a green-clad man, like Robin Hood, say in some mixed Norman French, "But I saw the man dying."

"I have felt like this a long time," said Father Christmas, in his feeble way again.

Mr. Charles Dickens suddenly leant across to him.

"Since when?" he asked. "Since you were born?"

"Yes," said the old man, and sank shaking into a chair. "I have been always dying."

Mr. Dickens took off his hat with a flourish like a man calling a mob to rise.

"I understand it now," he cried, "you will never die!"

Rating Proposals

Simon Crowcroft was speaking at the Chamber of Commerce Lunch last week, and on the subject of the States paying rates on States buildings which came up in a question, he said 11 Constables would be voting against it. He gave the impression that this was an example of unrepresentative democracy, as St Mary’s Constable was elected by far fewer voters on the electoral list than the St Helier one, and this was another example of a lack of voter parity.

What he didn’t say was why they would be voting against the proposal. I have been examining the minutes and reading between, because all the discussion is found in the relevant passages from the minutes of the Committee des Connetables:

“Following discussion, and having noted that the funding mechanism had not been identified to ensure that the payment of rates was cost-neutral for the States, the Committee considered that the proposals had not been satisfactorily formulated and that whilst the ratepayers of St Helier might see a one-off benefit this could be to the detriment of the ratepayers of other parishes.”

“The Committee noted that whilst it was proposed that the States should pay rates from 2017 it was still intended to identify an income stream from 2018 in order to achieve the required cost neutral position. The Connétables remained of the view that ratepayers generally should not have to provide funds to enable States Departments to pay their rates but rather Departments should regard rates as a utility bill and seek savings, or raise funds, to meet its liabilities.”

As I understand it, the Constables Committee objects to a principal of “Pay Paul by Robbing Peter” (to invert the proverb) so that the States would on the one hand pay rates on their property, and on the other increase the universal rate to cover it. The position is that no details are available, and it would be irresponsible to vote (a la Brexit, perhaps) for a proposal which did not set out the intended consequences, and detail the revenue streams by which the States was going to fund this. This is simple financial prudence, not an example (as Simon implied) of a town / country divide.

This also came up in the minutes:

“Revaluation of rateable values, as suggested in Part 12 of the draft MTFP Addition 2017-2019, would involve significant work but would not alter the amount raised (it would only redistribute the amount paid by ratepayers). The Committee recalled that prior to being fixed the rateable value had been based on the rental value and for certain properties, such as utility companies, this had had to be professionally assessed using the ‘profit’s method’. The Committee concluded that a revaluation should only be considered if it could be demonstrated that it would be beneficial but agreed it would not expect any costs to be met by parishes should it be decided to revalue rateable values.”

It is perhaps related, because the aborted scheme commissioned by Senator Ozouf in the run up to the 2014 election suggested a centralisation of the rates, replacing voluntary rates assessors with paid civil servants, and increasing rates to serve as a revenue stream rather than a mechanism for balancing the outgoings of each Parish. This seems like an attempt to start bringing that scheme into play or something like it, by the back door.

Incidentally, I might comment that in the 1980s there was a disaster when under Constable Len Downer, revaluation of ratable values was done over a four year period, during which some rates soared, but others remained relatively static. Some people had rises of 180% and other 10% because it was taking so long.

The system of revaluation was piecemeal and this was inequitable to those persons whose properties were assessed first. The delay of several years before similar properties in the Parish, and in some cases adjacent to the newly assessed ones, were dealt with meant that some ratepayers were carrying too high a proportion of the rates although temporarily.

Stormy Parish meetings took place! I’d recommend that any revaluation if it took place over time must be implemented on a simultaneous basis when complete and not as it went along piecemeal. That’s probably common sense, but that went out of the window in the 1980s, and that, together with inconsistent methods of revaluation, ended in an employee dismissal and a court case in which the mess was displayed for all to see.

So what might be portrayed as a “Constable’s Block Vote” by Constable Crowcroft is more a matter of prudence. Unlike those who voted for Brexit in the UK without the faintest idea of what that would involve, they want something concrete and solid on the table.

I can’t say I blame them, although I would point out that some of them did vote for the first stage of the Medium Term Financial Plan, when both a waste charge and a health charge were proposed without details being given. Those who did vote for more details, however, included Simon Crowcroft (who should want more details now instead of soft-peddling the issue), Sadie Rennard, John Le Maistre and Chris Taylor. 

Advent

For this Sunday, a poem by John V Taylor, former Bishop of Winchester, from his “Christmas Sequence”. It is a wonderfully complex poem, which has a huge richness and meaning a resonance. One of my favourite lines is "since forgiveness also must be premature", which is the summation of the parable of the prodigal son, better described as that of the prodigal father.

Advent

Not yet the visitation in the night:
    children are marking time.
Not yet the promise of Messiah's might -
    O come, O come!

Not yet the birth. The crucible of her love,
    through the last month's frustrations
must nourish the unborn with essence of
    divine impatience.

The dream dies in plundered peasant eyes,
    and she will watch him grow
sick of the waiting game and set to seize
    the Not-yet now.

She it is will at last give him the cue,
    conspiring to arrange
that he, before his coming out is due,
    should take the plunge.

Now rumour of God's rule is in the air.
    He, knowing the Father near,
is rash enough to live as if it were
    already here.

Other such fools who follow from the first,
    though faithless and impure,
he welcomes, since forgiveness also must
    be premature.

He'll pay for it; and they will stop pretending.
    When make-believe has died,
then they will find the awaited Future standing
    at their side.

Fin de siècle

My poem today just evolved as I wrote it, and went off on its own path, and I just followed on. It's a kind of reflection on this year just past, at this eleventh hour before the year ends, but that moment of reflection also reminded me of Shakespeare.

Falstaff: We have heard the chimes at midnight Master Shallow.
Shallow: That we have, that we have, that we have, in faith Sir John we have;

This has been a strange year, an unsettling year, and a year in which many values of generosity of spirit, of kindness to the stranger, of respect for the past, seem to have been tossed to one side.

Fin de siècle

Now it felt like the end of times,
Master Shallow, Midnight chimes!
A time of endings, a time of war:
The tide is rising on the shore;
Who can say where we will be,
A year hence, tossed on the sea?
The restless ocean, mighty waves:
And shadows of Platonic caves;
I feel it in my bones: this change:
The world becomes so very strange;
I beheld Nineveh: was torn apart:
The temples, and the ancient art,
Blown asunder, turned to dust,
And everywhere is lost of trust;
Strangers shunned and sent away:
No hospitality, to come and stay;
Mean and narrow spirits rule,
And often words can be so cruel;
Such promises were made, all lies,
Pander to the mob’s dread cries;
“Oh pity me”: sandpiper’s song:
And pity those who don’t belong;
The foxes find their clever holes,
A testimony to narrow goals;
Birds find nests in which to rest,
Do not share that they are blest;
But migrants find no place to stay:
Rest their weary heads, they pray;
Darkness comes, the light is lost:
And everyone must pay the cost;
The hermit with the lantern high:
And at the door, do not pass by;
Open the door, and let him in,
Where or not he be close kin;
Brothers and sisters we are all:
We stand together, or we fall;
Behold the stranger at the door:
The light is shining to adore.

Claude Russell and other Parish Notes

From “The Pilot “, the magazine of the Church of England in 1978, comes this piece from Terry Hampton in the Parish notes. Most notable is his obituary on Clause Russell, whom I remember seeing at the Church on Christmas Eve services. “Call me Claude”, he’d say, this elderly but very genial and warm hearted gentleman.

I came across this:

Medal card of Russell, Claude Holland
1914-1920
Royal Fusiliers
Second Lieutenant
Captain

But I believe he rose in the ranks, and was actually Colonel Russell. He lived with his wife Barabar Jean (nee Penny) at “The Haven”, Mont Arthur, St Aubin. She was actually a widow when she met and married him, having been married to Archibald William Yell.

All that I’ve been able to glean comes from their will and testaments, dated 10 July 1964, and filed in the Jersey Archive. You would think that such singular names are rare, but trying to find any more information, I have found a Claude Holland Russell who was a Lieutenant Colonel in the Boer War, several Barbara Jean Pennys in New Jersey, and Archibald William Yell living in the mid-1800s in Scotland, who would have been long dead by the 20th century.

In the following, my extra notes are in square brackets.

PARISH NOTES - ST AUBIN ON THE HILL
by Terry Hampton

CLAUDE RUSSELL

In December our church family met to say God-speed to our much loved senior Warden.

Claude began to worship with Barbara at St Aubin in 1964 and from 1968 he was both Warden and Treasurer. He was a true man of God and a deep personal friend who guided and advised me. Not that we always agreed! But as I said in the funeral address, when Claude argued about some-thing it was always on an important principle and not just because he wanted to be awkward.

The fact that so many from the village came to join us on Wednesday, December 21, showed the affection and respect in which Claude was held and the great number of cards and messages sent while he was in hospital meant an enormous lot to him. At the service we gave thanks for Claude's complete devotion to God, and also that Christ promised to welcome all His faithful soldiers and servants.

Michael [Halliwell, Rector] and Gerald [Stoddern, Methodist Minister] shared the service because Claude belonged to us all. But his chief love was the church "on-the-Hill". Thanks to him and others who prayed, worshipped and gave, St Aubin's has come alive again.

The many tasks which Claude did so cheerfully and efficiently will have to be taken on by others, but we shall not easily fill the gap that he has left in our lives and hearts.

All will miss that welcoming smile and our older members will miss those kindly visits with The PILOT, or a call because he had noticed a friend was not in church. At the back of our church is a small notice which says: "Let no one in this church a stranger be." Claude did his best to make sure that no one was a stranger and he worked hard to strengthen our church family. He was a good man, full of the Holy Spirit and of faith.

GIFTS. We have received a cheque for £50 in memory of Bill Vaughan, of La Haule Court. We do thank Mrs Vaughan and David for this generous gift, which will be used to buy some much-needed extra hymn and service books for our growing family service. Bill is another person I shall miss very much. Although very crippled, he was always cheerful and gave me a great welcome when I went in with Communion.

CANDLES. We had a marvellous Christmas Eve candle-lit communion service. (I've been told this by many who were there.) We welcomed villagers and holiday-makers, and one member of the municipality who got an unasked-for extra helping of candle hair-tonic! Getting a church ready for the services means a lot of work behind the scenes, and I do want to thank the flower ladies for the marvellous decorations, Bill [Morris] and Gerry, who put up candle holders, and Mike, who provided a marvellous extra heating machine.

Three of our youngsters spent an evening putting candles on the trays - Nicola, Penny and Jenny, and our wonderful, patient, Jessie [Blampied] removed a great deal of wax from the carpet! James Horsfall played some beautiful voluntaries and enriched the hymns with descants. Last, but not least, my friend Philip [Daubeney], who has shouldered so much extra work cheerfully and efficiently, as a Warden should.

To you all, and to any that I have not mentioned but whose help was noticed and appreciated, a very deep and sincere thank you.

GOOD NEWS. In the Christmas mail I had a newsletter from my theological college, now St John's, Nottingham. The number of people in training is going up from 114 to 121, of which 26 come from overseas. The college is planning to extend, as there is a steady increase in the number coming forward and whose quality is very high. Men in training include doctors, a journalist, a dietician, a nuclear submarine engineer, a Russian language monitor from the BBC, and even a museum tutor. So the C of E isn't finished yet - not if we all play our part. The same newsletter also mentioned the Archbishop Luwum memorial fund, which has now reached £14,000; this will be used to buy books for Ugandan clergy and, when conditions improve, to provide bursaries for travel to England for further training. [Archbishop Janani Luwum was murdered on 17 February 1977 in Uganda for standing up to the dictator Idi Amin]

GROWTH. During Lent there will be a special display on the Bookstall of Bible study material. I hope that you will all look at it, take some and use it! To tackle a book we know nothing about can be hard going. But notes, written by experts, can point out a key verse, ask a question, or give an explanation which makes the passage come alive. I hope during Lent to provide a series of "The Bible and Archaeology" at the Vicarage. We will look at the material from a particular time, and link it with a Biblical character so that we learn more about this book which is the basis of our knowledge of God. Do make time to come! 

A BOOK. In December I recommended a book "The Happiest People on Earth" and it was very exciting to see all the copies sold. This month I want to tell you about another book I've read recently. It is called "Twice Freed," by Patricia St John, and is the story of Onesimus. As I'm sure you will remember(!) Onesimus was a slave who ran away and finally met Paul in Rome; he became a Christian and Paul later sent the converted slave back to his owner, a man called Philemon. Paul's letter is in the New Testament; in fact it is the only really personal letter of Paul that we have. So do read this book.

THIRTY YEARS AGO. I read that short article and saw that St Aubin had been £11 short of the Diocesan Quota. (And St Brelade were £1 short!) Well times have changed because on the 1977 Quota of £337 we have sent £400 and will be "topping" this up to £500. We had an appreciative letter from the Treasurer thanking us for the cheque of £100 towards the Bishop's Ordination Training Appeal.

ST AUBIN'S DAY. Just to remind you again that our family adults' party is on Saturday, February 25, and our Patronal Day thanksgiving services are on Sunday, 26 February. Do come, and invite a friend to come with you.

TERRY HAMPTON
Vicar

Sark – Part 2

My post today is a selection from "The Channel Islands" by David Thomas Ansted and Robert Gordon Latham, published in 1865. Most travel guides look at the population, the sights to visit, something of the history, but this is an exception. It begins by looking at the geography of the Islands, and then considers how it his has shaped their subsequent history, so it is a bit different from the general guidebook.

Sark – Part 2

Boutique caves by Sue Daly

The Boutiques Caverns

The Greve de la Ville is a wide sweep of pebble and rocky beach, with a noble group of caverns at its southern extremity, connected with a large arched rock,—the "Chapelle Mauve."

These caverns are only accessible at low water, and are not easily visited. The shingles here do not afford a landing-place, but the bay can be entered from above, and there is good anchorage. Boats are moored at a point called the Banquet, and a rough road leads to the top. Beyond this is the Epercherie, in some states of the weather a more convenient harbour than the Creux; and it is seriously contemplated to make this once more the principal landing-place of Sark.

We now approach the northern extremity of the island, which, like all the rest of the rocky coast, is penetrated by noble caverns and cut into shreds by the mixed action of weather and the sea. The principal caves arc the "Boutiques," a group eminently characteristic of the island, and highly interesting and instructive. They are best entered from above, at a point where an island is nearly formed, by the action of the sea upon a vein of soft, clayey mineral. At the foot of this narrow cleft are piled gigantic boulders of granite; but about half way down is a transverse cleft of considerable length; the roof not yet fallen in, and the floor composed of rocks, whose edges and corners arc still sharp and angular.

At the end of this is an opening to the sea, to the left, and a continuance of this opening into the solid rock by caverns to the right. Beyond, is a continuation of the main cleft to the extreme point of the island. Not possessing the rich lining of zoophytes seen in the Gouliots, this series of caverns is less interesting to the zoologist; but as illustrating the mode in which Sark is being destroyed, there can be imagined nothing more striking or more instructive to the geologist.

Round the Bee du Nez,* as the little island north of Sark is called, and past the entrance to the Boutiques, we come to a confused pile of rocks, extending to a pretty bay (Seignie Bay), whence are seen the detached islets called the Autelets, one of the most picturesque groups of rocky masses around Sark.

[Judging from old maps, as well as from the probabilities of the case, not only has the Bee du Nez become recently detached, but the land formerly stretched out to some distance towards the north, with a greater breadth than at present. The appearance of the fallen and still angular blocks, contrasted with the perfect roundness of those that have been longer exposed, testifies to the fact of enormous destruction in a short period.]

A footpath has been constructed down the face of the cliff, chiefly in a vein containing much iron and manganese ore, so that the little bay can be reached. The view, shut in by the steep face of rock, the picturesque 'Autelets' on one side and the pile of angular masses of granite on the shore, is extremely fine.

At low water there is a walk quite round to the Port du Moulin, beyond which again is a noble, detached rocky mass, the Tintageux [One of the very few Celtic words remaining in the Channel Islands. The Huet, in Moulin Huet (Guernsey), is also Celtic] and then another bay, the Grand Pegane, and the Port la Jument.

Beyond the latter is the Moie de Mouton, a nearly detached rock, forming a sort of promontory, approachable only by a boat. Like the Point du Derrible on the opposite side of the island, and other rocks of its kind, of which we have already mentioned so many, it is strikingly bold, angular, and apparently capable of resisting almost indefinitely the grinding action of the tidal and storm wave. But like the rest, it is on the road to destruction; and some other mass, now a part of Sark, will succeed it in due time.

There is no access to the shore beyond the Moie de Mouton till the celebrated Gouliot caves arc reached. They are approached by a rather troublesome descent from the table land, the path leading past the Havre Gosselin, which may be conveniently visited on the same excursion. They consist of noble, vaulted caverns, piercing a promontory which extends towards, and has originally been connected with, the Gouliot rock and the island of Brechou (He des Marchands).

The whole of the rock at and near the water level, beneath the promontory called the Sault de San Jehan (St. John's Leap), is honeycombed in a singular manner, forming a succession of caverns constantly altered by the action of the waves. A very fine view of the Gouliot rock and passage, with the caverns just visible, and the island of Brechou to the left, is obtained from the Havre Gosselin. It is represented in the annexed engraving.

Gouliot caves by Sue Daly

The Gouliot caves, which may at all times he reached from above, can only be thoroughly explored at extremely low tides; and even then, the visitor must be prepared to wade through some depth of water.

The descent is not a very easy task to any one not accustomed to cliffing, and not endowed by nature with a steady head. In this case, however, as in many others, there is little danger when there is no fear. A path has been made on the rocky face of a small inlet, and terminates on some large rocks, covered with black slippery sea-weed and little barnacles, the rocks having been thrown by the sea in its angry moments above the reach of ordinary tides. Over these one has to pick one's way into the first great cave, which is a long natural tunnel, something like the Boutiques, penetrating completely through a small promontory that stretches out beyond the middle of the west coast of Sark, and separated from the island of Brechou and the Gouliot rock by a tunnel, passable at all times.

This first cavern is of noble proportions, and the floor is roughly piled with immense boulders, giving many a varied view of the small but picturesque "Havre Gosselin," seen through the opening at the farther extremity. But this cavern, though fine, is, as it were, a mere outer court, preparing us for the glories to be revealed within. Its walls are partly covered with those singular currant-jelly-like animals one sees expanded like living flowers in marine aquaria; deep blood-red is the prevailing colour, but dark olive-green varieties are also common, and numerous yellow and brick-red patches are seen at intervals. A few muscles, and tens of thousands of limpets and barnacles, cover the boulders. Abundance of life is seen, and some of the specimens are as rare as they are beautiful. A branch of the first cavern, in which is a deep pool of water, conducts to the sea; hut it is better to wait till low water and creep round outside.

[ Gouliot.—Goulot or Goulet, a narrow inlet, like the neck of a bottle.]

We then enter a gloomy series of vaults, lighted from the sea, and communicating with each other by natural passages.

Every square inch of surface is covered with living corallines; and, in some parts, an infinite number of Tubularie are seen occupying the walls. As it is only at rare intervals that these animals are deprived of water, and the caverns are always damp and gloomy, the conditions are particularly favourable for their development, and their dimensions and vigour sufficiently prove the healthiness and suitableness of the locality.

The Havre Gosselin succeeds the Gouliots; and in it also are caverns of considerable magnitude. They afford fresh examples of vertical cliffs, connecting with and originating small bays. More caverns and small coves succeed; another little harbour, the Port-es-Sees, is passed, and we then come to the expanse of sand and shingle from which the western and more sloping side of the Coupee commences to rise.

There is a path down to this bay from the Coupee. It is a steep zigzag, not pleasant to descend, although not very difficult of ascent.

The rest of the coast is that of Little Sark. The rocks are somewhat lower here than on the larger division of the island, and there is nothing calling for special remark till we reach the little harbour of Gouray, where, in former times, vessels were moored, bringing stores from Cornwall for the mines adjacent. A large group of rocks and small islands forms a temporary barricade to this part of the island, and keeps off some of the heavy seas that sweep round during the equinoctial gales, and at other seasons.

We have thus completed our survey of the coast line of Sark, as it may be seen by walking round it on the cliffs, or sailing along the shores, according as circumstances permit; but the detached islands and rocks arc not often safely to he reached, although the many stout boats seen moored at all the little landing-places, show that the Sark fishermen are not afraid of braving rough seas and dangerous shores. About twenty small nooks and coves may be counted along the shore, but access to the land from some of them is so difficult, that nothing but necessity would induce any ordinary tourist to undertake the trip.

Between Sark and Brechou is the detached rock called the Gouliot Rock, the celebrated Gouliot caverns, already alluded to, opening under the cliffs that face this rock. The water passage between the Gouliot Rock and Brechou is deep, dark, and dangerous. The current is swift, and varies with the tide, so that at times it would be impossible to row against it. There is, however, depth of water sufficient to float a frigate, and daring sailors, in time of need, have ventured to sail through it.

There is only one landing-place at Brechou, worthy of the name, and that is not accessible at all times of tide, even in a rowing-boat. The cliffs all round the island are high and exceedingly steep, but their height is inferior to that of the Sark cliffs. The top of the island is partly cultivated, and there are two farms; the population of the place, at the last census, being seven human beings, a cow, a horse, and a dog, besides several sheep.

Like the larger island adjacent, Brechou is almost intersected by caverns and surrounded by picturesque rocks. Seen from the sea—their jagged and varied forms resembling pinnacles and castles, with cormorants standing sentinel on the flat edges, and gulls perched on the commanding heights—these rocks contrast finely with the black overhanging precipices of the island. But the overfalls and the white foam, also visible in the sea near them, give notice of the hidden dangers that lurk beneath, and remind the boatman of the caution that is needed in threading his way through the narrow channels that alone are safe.

From the highest point of Brechou, where a small cairn has been placed, there is a fine view of Sark in its whole length, with all the detached and pierced rocks, and the entrances to the dark caverns that penetrate its western face. The distance is so short, the position so nearly central, and the level so nearly that which is best adapted for a good coup d'wil, that the view is quite panoramic. At a greater distance, the surface of Sark looks comparatively flat, but here all the principal undulations are seen, and the most striking peculiarities of structure are readily made out. Besides the little harbours and rocky cliffs, which one can ascend after landing from a boat, there are some small bays that may be reached from above, but which it would not be easy for boats to enter. More than five-and-twenty points of the Sark coast can be visited in this way, and three or four in the island of Brechou; and as each one will take time and trouble to descend, and many of them require good climbing powers and a steady head, few persons would be inclined to attempt a thorough investigation of the rocky coast adjacent, more than half-a-dozen times in one day.

It will be evident, then, that there is plenty of work in Sark for several days, even for the most energetic tourist. Many of the points of view can only be seen to advantage, at certain times of tide; whilst some of the descents to the beach include wanderings for one or more hours in romantic caverns. In the Channel Islands, moreover—across which Atlantic gales sweep with fierce violence, and which, by their elevation, attract no small quantity of rain,—it is not possible to continue one's investigations for many days, without being stopped by unfavourable weather. All these considerations show that Sark, small as it is, cannot be appreciated without a prolonged visit; and indeed, it requires not only time, but a good guide to enable a stranger to reach the most interesting points.

Trees on Mars

At the men’s breakfast at St Brelade’s Church, I was told, quite categorically, that there were trees on Mars. It was during a discussion of my forthcoming Astronomy Quiz night which I had just finished. So I wondered where this story came from, and why it was believed so readily.

According to the Daily Express "Alien believers shockingly claim that NASA is trying to cover up the existence of the 'trees' with an elaborate cover story for what they really are. This is under a story in March 2016 with the headline: "TREES FOUND ON MARS: Extraordinary image 'shows towering plants on the Red Planet'"

But would NASA really publish the photo in the public domain if they were trying to cover it up? And when they are searching for evidence of past life on Mars, why on earth wouldn't they shout this from the rooftops if it really was trees?

The image in question is of a vast region of sand dunes at high northern latitudes on Mars. And it is an old photo. The pictures have been on NASA’s site since 7th April 2008. They were taken via the HiRISE camera on the Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter.

NASA's Candy Hansen, writing for the Space Fellowship website in 2010, noted:

“There is a vast region of sand dunes at high northern latitudes on Mars. In the winter, a layer of carbon dioxide ice covers the dunes, and in the spring as the sun warms the ice it evaporates. This is a very active process, and sand dislodged from the crests of the dunes cascades down, forming dark streaks. In this image falling material has kicked up a small cloud of dust. The color of the ice surrounding adjacent streaks of material suggests that dust has settled on the ice at the bottom after similar events.”

And a commentator on the Universe Today added in 2010:

"Definitely not trees. At first glance, I can understand how you’d get that impression, though. But look closer. They “grow” in multiple directions, but they don’t cast shadows. Looking a little closer, they show as gullies carved in the faces of the steep sides of dunes."

It is an example of Pareidolia. That is the imagined perception of a pattern (or meaning) where it does not actually exist, as in considering the moon to have human features. It is something which we, as human beings, are very good it. It is an inbuilt way of seeing the world. But it can misfire, and we see (based on our experience) something which isn't really there.

Sometimes it can be used with good effect. For instance, the Horsehead Nebula is so called because it resembles a chess piece, so it is an easy way of making a quick and memorable identification: But no one ever believed there really was a giant chess piece hanging in space!

But often it can lead the casual observer astray. This site looks at all the photos which have been misinterpreted in this way.

http://www.seeker.com/top-10-weirdest-mars-illusions-and-pareidolia-1767571480.html

One of the most notable is that seen in 1976. A photograph of a rock formation on Mars beamed to Earth by NASA?s Viking 1 orbiter looked to many like a face carved in the Martian surface. The Face on Mars photo?s legacy has survived to this day, even after additional observations by more advanced spacecraft have revealed it to be a trick of light and shadows.

So why did the tabloids run with this article?

It sells papers, even if they do give the more mundane explanation. Which would you prefer, a scientific explanation, or something which tells you about conspiracies to cover up the possibility of alien life? The latter always sounds exciting, hence the popularity of Dan Brown. An explanation which tells us there is alien life on another planet is so much better than one which exposes our own vulnerability to mistakes of perception. We want to see the Happy Face on Mars as a construct not an illusion.

Not as Newsworthy

Not as Newsworthy

Back in 2012, the Press Gazette noted that Claverley’s Directors report (they owned Guiton) read:

“In the Channel Islands the newspapers publishing companies faced harsh trading conditions resulting in customers cutting their advertising spend. With the economic outlook for the year remaining flat at best with little indication of any sustained economic recovery in the short-term, the trading conditions remain challenging.”

Guiton Group is the parent company of the local newspapers. And now further details are emerging this of potential job losses at both the Jersey Evening Post and Guernsey Press. As Bailiwick Express reported:

“It seems an announcement was made late on Friday evening, that the newspapers’ parent company, Guiton Publishing, was reviewing the businesses and redundancies could be on the agenda. Speaking to ITV news, a spokesman is reported to have said: ‘Guiton Publishing has announced to all employees that it is entering a period of consultation, which will seek input from staff on the changes to the business that are required to provide the best possible services to our audience, both in print and online.’ This morning, the MD of Guiton Publishing, Paul Carter, said that no further comment would be made until that consultation period had been completed, aside from saying that, ‘... it may only be a small number of employees who might ultimately be impacted.’”

As I understand it, many journalists are now on a freelance basis, a trend which shows no sign of stopping. The number of permanent staffers are the main ones impacted by changes.

The Jersey Evening Post also has a number of non-journalistic columnists, such as Gavin Ashenden, Rob Duhamel, Jonathan Renouf, Ben Shenton and until elected Sarah Ferguson. Gavin certainly let slip that this was unpaid, so there is already cost cutting measures in place. In the old days, columnists – such as Betty Brooke (Hardbencher) or Gordon Young (In My View) were journalists, and paid as such.

What are the figures? The website “Hold the Front Page” reports for 2015 that Jersey had a daily readership of 15,500 for the JEP, a drop of 7.4% on the previous year. The Guernsey Press and Star had 13,402, a drop of 3.9%..

August 2015 gave the figures: JEP 15,002, Guernsey Press 13,197. At that time, the story also reported that they were two of the best regional paper performers:

“The Lancashire Telegraph was the best-performing UK regional daily in the first half of 2015 according to the regional ABC figures published today. It was the only regional daily to post a year-on-year increase in print circulation at 1.6pc. Channel Island dailies the Guernsey Press and Star (-3.7pc) and Jersey Evening Post (-3.9pc) registered the next best performances over the same period.”

Looking ahead to this year:

“Today’s six-monthly ABC figures revealed all regional daily newspapers in the United Kingdom experienced a decline in circulation between January and June of 2016, when compared to the first half of 2015. “

Guernsey Press had an average daily readership of 12,580, a drop of 4.7% on same time last year, while the Jersey Evening had Post 13,791, a drop of 8.1%.

All told, it has a steadily eroding readership base, and while there is an online version, it does not seem to feature in the top online figures, perhaps because it is behind a paywall, whereas the rival Bailiwick Express is not.

More information - such as the Gazette information regarding States notices (and is currently a legal requirement of the states), while still printed in the JEP, is also available online. It is likely that this quite lucrative source of revenue will go in the next few years.

Meanwhile the “Bailiwick Express”, a new publication with some former JEP staffers at its journalistic helm, has probably been grabbing readership: it is an online only presence, with the occasional detailed interview or backgrounder on headline stories. Other websites - BBC and ITV (Channel) have been revamping themselves - ITV in particular has had some very good background blogs on detailed stories by Gary Burgess, while BBC's Ryan Morrison has also been doing sterling work.

The JEP itself says:

“The daily adult readership of the Jersey Evening Post (all adults aged 16 years and over) is 47,114 – representing around 56% of the entire adult population of the Island.”

This is, according to them, from figures derived from the States of Jersey Annual Social Survey.

But in 2012, the JEP itself reported: “The newspaper’s average net circulation was 17,912 copies a day in the first six months of 2012, according to the Audit Bureau of Circulation. (ABC)”

The ABC circulation figures that I’ve given above appear much closer to that than the somewhat fanciful figure of 47,114. . That’s 13,791 copies a day, representing a much smaller percentage of the adult population.

And at BBC News, Ryan Morrison reports much the same:

"The Jersey Evening Post circulation is currently about 14,000 according to ABC, a company which records newspaper circulations. It was nearly 21,000 in 2007. The Guernsey Press and Star had a circulation of 12,500 in 2016 down from 16,000 in 2007."

At £15.75 per month, the JEP’s “Extra Ultimate packages” does represent good value, providing (1) FREE delivery of the JEP six days a week (2) Smartphone App (3) Tablet (4) Online (5) Shared e-edition of the JEP and £125 worth of FREE classified advertising for private sales/announcements.

By my reckoning, that comes to about the same as the paper version but includes the online version. The online only version is £14.58 per month, slightly less. But the question is: how many people are prepared to pay when other sources of news are readily available? I also suspect some readers share a paper, so the actual figures are slightly greater than given by ABC.

It would be a shame if we lost what has been a part of Island life for decades, but difficult times are ahead. And in case you ask, yes, I do usually buy the JEP. Like most Tabloids, it suffers from a surfeit of advertising, but I do enjoy the features, especially the interviews with prominent islanders.