That Other Dartmouth Carnival

THE green and white sign across the front of the railway station said "Welcome to Dartmouth Carnival." Normally this would be taken in stride by any Dartmouth man. What was amazing about it was that I was in England when I spotted it and it was July.

I experienced this surprise after I had left my two Colgate traveling companions in the resort town of Torquay, eight miles away, and had gone on to see what the town of Dartmouth, England, was like. Seeing the Dartmouth Carnival sign upon arrival started an equally amazing chain of events for me - the next day I was back in the town, with my two friends, and when we left we were honorably escorted to the railway station by a lively procession of citizens, headed by the town councilmen and the Carnival president, who by then had heard quite a lot about the famous Dartmouth Carnival on the other side of the Atlantic.

The town of Dartmouth is a quiet and beautiful place at the mouth of the River Dart, on the southern shore of the county of Devon, and is widely know of course as the location of the Royal Naval College. It was, we discovered, pretty much the same as its description in the guidebook: "This is a town as individual as an old sea-dog; blue-jerseyed, with a cocky tilt to its cap, and long memory in its glance. No mere pleasure resort this. No characterless parade of shops and houses, all primped and frilled for the holiday trade. Rather it is a wind-burned, sunburned individual which moves to meet you with a handshake. And which will remember you when you come back."

Dartmouth sits across the river from Kingswear, tucked into a beautiful, rolling green hill. Overlooking it from an adjacent hill is the imposing, red-brick Naval College, the Annapolis of England and inaccessible to tourists.

To get back to the chain of events I mentioned, it was while walking through this delightful town, inspecting the back streets and little alleyways almost untouched by time, and enjoying the sights of the neat shops, cobblestone streets, and men bowling on the green, that I decided that the Dartmouth Carnival coincidence justified a call on the Mayor, to whom I should extend a hands-across-the-sea greeting and all that sort of thing. My route took me back toward the railway station, and there by chance I encountered not the Mayor but the whole Carnival Committee which had gathered with the Carnival Queen for a special reception.

All that a Yankee tourist with a tale about another Dartmouth Carnival, also in green and white, and a famed Carnival Queen could evoke were exclamations of "By Jove!" But one young and outgoing man, Mr. Lloyd Attree, the Carnival president, did get beyond this to extend an enthusiastic welcome. The idea of an American counterpart of the Dartmouth Carnival was surprising and exciting to him as well as to me. Immediately plans were made for my return to Dartmouth the next day, not as an average, camera-toting tourist but as a Carnival judge and a special guest of the town.

It was already the fifth day of the Carnival, which lasted from June 28 to July 5. From the Carnival program it was clear that the maze of events, exhibitions, parades, dances, refreshments, and sports resembled closely an American winter carnival. There had been four dances in the first four evenings, with the Carnival Committee cleverly providing free late ferries to Kingswear "for those who could have danced all night." The first two days featured such events as bowling for a leg of pork, car decorating, and a skiffle group competition (whatever skiffle is). Wednesday, July 2, turned out to be a big day for Miss Marilyn Breeze, for her ticket sales made her children's Carnival Queen, to reign alongside the adult Queen. And Wednesday evening the whole Carnival Committee must have forsaken the variety show, "Carnival Revels," for it was then that I discovered them waiting at the railway station.

Thursday morning we three Americans arrived on the scene, and were put up at the Ivy Guest Home, run by a little Englishman and his attractive French wife. This was to be a big Carnival day. An afternoon event was the Carnival Baby Show, with the "Edith Pook Cup" for the best baby in the show. Luckily we managed to skirt this event by having Mr. Attree arrange for us a meeting with the Mayor and Mayoress at the Guild Hall.

While Mrs. Attree labored away at the thankless task of judging one baby better than another, under the eyes of glowing mothers, we were treated to a quick and fascinating lesson in Dartmouth tradition by the Mayor. A most dignified man, he explained the town jewels, mace, and bracelets of state; and then he started on the town history, not mechanically, but with a real gusto and pride. A few of the things he mentioned were particularly interesting.

In 1341 Edward III gave the town its charter, permitting self-government under a mayor and corporation. From this town, nearly 300 years later, the Mayflower departed originally for America. The Mayor was a bit indignant that a storm forced the boat to put in at Plymouth, just a few miles away, before proceeding on to the new lands and carrying the name of Plymouth, instead of Dartmouth, to the Massachusetts colony.

It was like a tale spun for youth when he spoke of the days of Drake and Raleigh, and of piracy in Dartmouth - of drunken sailors fleeing through the unlit back alleys from the authorities. On the Mayor's advice, we visited Dartmouth Castle, built into the rock, guarding the straits where the River Dart meets the English Channel. It was through this, beautiful and quiet harbor entrance that 485 ships and thousands of troops set out, in 1944, to spearhead the "D" day landings at Normandy, just across the Channel.

Before the main Carnival event of the day, a farcical version of the "Crossing of the Line" ceremony was staged by the members of the H. M. S. Jewel, berthed at Dartmouth for maneuvers at the time. Dressed in our best, the three of us sat in the reserved section with the other officials to witness the antics.of King Neptune and his Court. After a few of the spectators had been sacrificed to the King by being dumped into the water, we joined the Committee at a wonderful local pub before leaving to judge the decorated boat competition. This pub is worthy of mention, for here we were introduced to a drink especially popular in Dartmouth: beer with a bit of lime juice in it to enliven the taste. Try it!

After testing several of these Dartmouth Specials, our party assembled on the judges' motor launch and set out on the River Dart, amidst a weird array of fantastically decorated rowing boats and motor craft. The three of us, equipped with pencils and official tallying pads, were placed in the bow of the craft; in our Ivy League suits, we posed with great dignity, as the Naval College students who skippered the boat dashed a little too playfully between the odd assortment of decorated vessels. This seemed a watery Macy's parade; and we were up to it, being three sheets to the wind anyway.

In the decorated rowing boat competition, a massive and elaborately constructed slave galley, holding over twenty oarsmen and numerous "slaves," took top honors with ease. Between the Kon Tiki and the pirate floats there was close competition for second place, until the first sank at the prompting of the second and so was awarded the prize by default. This buccaneer tactic of drowning the Kon Tiki was followed, in the motor boat competition, by the drenching of a Viking ship by a spouting whale, and the stage was set for a sea battle.

The battle began when the Vikings decided to chastise the offending whale with water extinguishers. And when the slave galley joined the fray, with ten men manning a large hose and the other ten tossing buckets of water in all directions, the ruckus drew more participants. The well-dressed judges on the official launch (that was us) had the best view, of course, being in the center of the festivities.

Waterlogged and a little disillusioned, we repaired to the Castle pub, with the rest of the Committee, for a few more lime refreshments before the formal presentation of prizes at the Bandstand. Here, in the middle of the Royal Botanical Gardens, with the whole town gathered around, Mr. Attree took the people - and us - by surprise by introducing us as three special guests. He insisted that we unleash our "Yankee drawls" and speak to the town. Perked up by several Dartmouth Specials, we made the panicky decision that I should speak, being the one from Dartmouth College.

The speech began with an accusation that it was they, not I, who had the accent. Somehow, this turnabout seemed to go over in fine fashion. Laughter and cheers warranted ending the speech, I decided. But my closing remarks, aimed at complimenting the beauty of the town, somehow became an extended description of the countryside of Hanover, New Hampshire, as an approximation of this lovely English Dartmouth. Platitudes poured down from heaven at the appropriate moments, and with some added remarks about Dartmouth College and its Winter Carnival, I managed to get through my "address."

The next evening, our last in Dartmouth, was the occasion for yet another speech to the town. We had spent a wonderful day swimming and sunning near the Castle. When evening came, the highlight was the children's grand fancy dress procession. We took our places in the center of the outdoor dancing floor, in the Royal Gardens, to judge the wildly decorated groups of children. The parents were gathered around, three deep, and closing in. After the awards we were asked again - this time with less surprise — to speak to the townspeople.

I told them that the three of us had been the perfect judges that evening, for we were leaving town in an hour to catch a plane for Paris in the morning. This struck the right note and once again, with the encouragement of my listeners, a two-minute speech stretched into a long dissertation. This time, I covered the details of our Dartmouth Carnival, the Outdoor Evening, snow statues, and Carnival Queen. A few more compliments flowed with the platitudes, and at the end of the speech the people were cheering loudly.

Mr. Attree closed the evening by presenting us "Yankee celebrities" with a scroll, beautifully engraved in gold, green, and white, reading: "Greetings and all best wishes to the Carnival of Dartmouth, America, from the Carnival Committee of Dartmouth, England." Signed Lloyd Attree, President, and F. J. Tremlett, Chairman. This was presented subsequently to President Dickey. This called for a short speech of thanks and then, the ceremony over, the dancing began. Little girls who had participated in the contests insisted that we autograph their prize placards and reporters interviewed us for the town newspaper. Finally we broke away for a last visit to the pub with the Committee members, before the ferry left for the train at Kingswear. Our send-off was warm and memorable.

Unfortunately we had to miss the biggest day of the Carnival. Saturday featured another Macy-like parade, this time on dry land. It was to proceed through the streets and to be led by the Mayor, decked out in his ceremonial robes of office. The famed City of Wellington (New Zealand) Highland Pipe Band was to be the special attraction.

The hospitality of the people of Dartmouth was overwhelming, their town ideal for beauty, sport and relaxation. The excitement of the Carnival augmented for us an adventurous stay. Yet, it is interesting that the Carnival is not even the most important event of the summer for the townspeople. The Dartmouth Regatta, lasting several days in late summer (August 27 to go this year), is famed throughout England as the biggest river event in the South-West. It is a special and lavish event that bears visiting.

The guide book tells us that the fishing at Dartmouth is superb (river fish are bass, pollock, whiting, skate, mackerel, conger, eel, and smelt; sea fish are bass, pollock, skate, tope, mackerel, wrasse, and bull huss) and it urges all to "Come where the sky is blue and the sea is blue in rivalry. Come where history walks in the shadow of today. And where you know there is a bigger fish to be caught than ever you have caught before." The guide book also says, "Come to meet a friendly town. There's a hand out-stretched in welcome." The fabulous experience of three minor American tourists bears out that no statement could be more true.

The author, in the left-hand corner, points to the green and white sign that astounded him when he arrived in Dartmouth, England, last summer while on a vacation tour.

In the role of Carnival judge, Bacon (r) studies his tally sheet. He also called on his forensic talents (and Dartmouth Specials) while he was guest of the town.

Dartmouth Castle guards the straits where the River Dart meets the English Channel.