Great Canal Journeys (2014) s06e01 Episode Script
Bristol and North Devon
1 I'm Prunella Scales.
And I'm Timothy West.
Beautiful.
We've been husband and wife for over five decades.
Cheers.
We've been wedded to stage and screen for even longer.
Great hairdo.
But we share another passion canals.
Cast off, please.
Aye, aye, sir.
Canals wind through our lives, carrying our treasured memories Of families growing up Our moments of wonder And hidden beauty.
Is this the most remote canal we've ever been on? Probably is, yes.
Of love And laughter.
Ah! Sorry about that.
Things are a bit harder for me these days.
I'm not strong enough.
But we get by.
We're at the summit.
Hooray! Pru has a slight condition.
It does mean she has difficulty remembering things.
Oh, my darling! I'm so sorry! I didn't cast you off! One has to recognise that Pru's domestic life is getting a little narrower by the day.
Well, it can be a nuisance.
It doesn't stop me remembering how to open a lock gate or make the skipper a cup of tea.
OK? Cast off, skipper.
This time we'll explore new routes.
It's a beautiful part of the world, isn't it? Make new memories.
I think this is quite scary.
And return to old haunts.
Lovely heron.
Yes, look.
Beautiful.
But one thing stays the same We're always together.
I still feel that sense of adventure and possibility and discovery.
Tim is rehearsing for a new production of King Lear.
And he's playing the title role which is pretty demanding.
Rehearsals can be hard work and intense, but we've found the perfect antidote to worrying about your performance.
Hop on a narrow boat.
Yes, there's no time to fret about, I am a bit pentameter when there's a lock to be opened.
You OK, Pru? Only just.
Touring up and down the country, we've discovered that where there's a theatre, there's usually a canal or a waterway nearby.
So, as Tim is playing at the Bristol Old Vic, we've decided to explore the West Country by boat, an area we once both called home.
Do you feel soppy about cruising through your childhood home? Yes, I do.
Heading back through time, we'll replay the separate scenes from Act I of our lives.
There it is.
This was your house.
Oh.
Two children, both caught up in the tragedy of war.
Learning to adapt and survive.
We could hear the large explosions as we huddled in the cupboard under the stairs.
We could see it.
We saw Bristol burning.
Ultimately drawn together by theatre.
No, you unnatural hags! And by love.
It's a voyage in several different vessels.
There's no pressure.
She's only valued at 1.
5 million.
It doesn't always go to plan.
Ah! I've lost my hat! But as we enter the last act, we know that our final scenes will be together.
It's funny we never knew each other.
Well, we do now.
We begin our adventure at Saltford, 15 miles east of Bristol along the Kennet and Avon Canal.
And it's a part of the world that's reassuringly familiar to us.
This is the last bit that actually takes you into Bristol.
Oh, right.
Your home town.
My home town, my home from home.
As the son of a touring actor, I had something of a nomadic childhood.
Thank you.
But if asked, I would proudly say that I am a Bristolian.
Right.
Everything shipshape, and indeed Bristol fashion? I'm just unloading the rations.
Good, good.
Then you can help me cast off.
Thank you.
OK? Cast off, skipper.
Thank you.
OK.
We're Bristol bound.
Built to connect London with the port of Bristol, the western end of the Kennet and Avon is in fact a navigable river with locks.
Heading for Bristol we'll explore its Floating Harbour, boarding a historic ship we'll set sail further down river.
At Clevedon we'll pick up a paddle steamer and head out into the Bristol Channel.
Finally, on the north Devon coast, we'll visit my wartime home.
It's awfully quite this stretch, isn't it? Yes.
It usually is pretty quiet.
Oh, look.
Look at the water lily's.
Yes.
We're both in our ninth decade, and for over half of those years we've explored the canals together.
But, as Pru's condition develops, our time together on board has became even more precious.
She's best when she's with me, certainly.
Hello.
Oh! If she's left on her own for a little, she gets a bit restive or a bit uncertain about what's going to happen.
Although she's being frightfully well looked after professionally .
.
she wants me to be around.
Now, what can I do for you, lovely? Well, open the sluices.
Right, OK.
I'm off doing what I do, acting on stage, and she's not doing really what she really loved to do and is incapable now of doing, but I think makes me feel I'm being a bit unfair.
But Pru still copes perfectly well on the canal and so for the moment we'll keep at it, cherishing these moments.
Lovely heron.
Yes, look.
Beautiful.
So big.
I might be taking a day off from rehearsals, but with over 700 lines to memorise, I still need some extra practice.
You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder Helping each other with our lines has always been part of our marriage.
O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house Just a minute.
I'm just going under a tree.
But steering a boat and reciting Shakespeare at the same time can prove a little tricky.
Ah! I've lost my hat and my spectacles! Oh, I've got my spectacles! You've lost your hat? Yes! Well, we'll pick it up.
Never mind King Lear, losing my favourite hat - now that's a real life tragedy.
There it is.
Put it underneath the thing.
Oh, well done.
Well Look out.
There's some trees.
There are trees everywhere.
I don't want to lose the boat hook.
Got the boat hook and I've got the hat and I've got you, so it's all right.
In that order.
Will you forgive me? Yes.
Thank you.
On principle.
I think me and my hat had better steer clear for a bit.
Oh, dear.
Hope it doesn't shrink.
I've had it as long as I've had my husband.
I don't really want to lose either of them much.
Where are we exactly? Well, we're coming into Bristol now.
In a little while we'll be at the entrance to the Feeder Canal.
What's a Feeder Canal? Well, it's taking the water from the Avon and feeding it into the Floating Harbour where all the boats are so that the Floating Harbour doesn't get short of water or it doesn't get flooded.
For centuries, ships visiting the Port of Bristol would get marooned on the mud at low tide.
But in the early 19th century, a 2.
5 mile stretch of tidal river was transformed into the non-tidal Floating Harbour.
So called because ships were now able to stay afloat at all times, so the water level doesn't change.
So the crew could go ashore and get a meal? Yeah.
The converted warehouses and high-rise buildings announce our arrival into central Bristol.
Do you feel soppy about it, cruising through your childhood home? Yes, I do.
It's very, very different.
Well, it was being bombed when you were here, wasn't it? Yes.
It's a pretty considerable renaissance.
Oh, look.
Oh, brilliant.
Lovely sight.
Yeah.
There is a special place in my heart for Bristol.
My family moved here in 1939 and we stayed here for six years, the longest time we ever lived in one place during my childhood.
What a lovely steam tug.
Beautiful.
We've reached the Floating Harbour.
That's a very old steam crane.
Oh, right.
Being preserved and is still workable apparently.
I remember as a young boy I would sneak down here to watch the cargo ships unloading and dream of sailing away on an adventure.
You did sail away on the canals with me! The first person to welcome us back to Bristol is my boyhood friend Peter.
Hello! Come round.
Come here.
Hello! Well, well, well! We lived around the corner from each other and share the same memories of growing up during the Bristol Blitz.
Of course, all through the war we were there.
And I think you joined us in the air raid shelters on red and green.
That's right.
We used to play busses on those We did.
We pretended to be someplace, yes.
Well, I was in a village in north Devon in the extreme countryside.
But what was it like being in Bristol during the war cos you were bombed? I know.
It wasn't very nice.
Cos it was a blackout, nobody could see anything and the bombers used to come over Bath and they'd drop a load of bombs and we just sat there.
Eight bombs would be dropped in a stick they called it.
Oh.
And you sat, went, "Six, seven, eight.
Oh, we're still here!" It wasn't all death and destruction for two young boys.
Oh, I know one thing that he had.
He had a lovely theatre about that size, all made of wood, and he had players on it, all on a stick.
And they were Gilbert and Sullivan, I think you seem to enjoy having.
And we had the scripts.
Yeah.
Did you sing the tunes and everything? I should think so.
I don't think anybody came back if they did.
So whilst other boys were playing in the bomb craters, my Tim was playing with his toy theatre.
How wonderful.
Where shall we go tonight? I don't know.
It's your home town.
You know where to go.
We are all shaped by our childhood experiences.
I wonder what other secrets this city has to reveal about my husband.
Tim and I are exploring the West Country by boat.
Having both spent an important part of our childhoods here, it's something of a homecoming for both of us.
We're currently in Bristol, my boyhood home.
But it's not just nostalgia that's brought me back.
I'm playing King Lear at the city's Old Vic theatre.
How many times have you paid Lear, now? Four.
Yeah.
Nearly know it, then? I first played Lear at the tender age of 37.
It's a role that has punctuated my career.
The tale of a proud and foolish old King is perhaps Shakespeare's greatest tragedy.
And every time I return to it, I discover a new meaning, a new relevance to our times.
Has your mind changed radically about it? At the moment, I mean, it reflects very much about what's going on socially and politically.
You know, older people making disastrous decisions and leaving it to younger people to clear up the mess and people walking away from responsibility.
It's ridiculous, isn't it? Shakespeare died 400 years ago and he's still got something to say about life today.
Not half, yeah, absolutely.
Right.
Time to go to rehearsal.
All right.
Pru, cast off, please.
OK.
Leaving our mooring at the marina, we're heading east along the city's waterways to Bristol's Old Vic theatre.
A three-master.
They're lovely.
She is registered in Bideford.
Oh.
Yeah.
Not quite my hometown but it's my wartime hometown.
Very beautiful.
Lovely.
Tim might be the Bristol boy but this beautiful city has played a crucial role in my life too.
Back in 1951, I got a job as assistant stage manager at the Old Vic theatre.
Was it your first job in the business Yes.
.
.
working at the Bristol Old Vic? Yes.
Yeah? It was.
Were you any good as an ASM? Absolutely hopeless, I think.
Well, we've all got to start somewhere.
And the grand old lady of British theatre is a pretty good place to start.
This year she celebrates her 250th birthday.
A lot has changed since Pru first worked here in the 1950s.
And before rehearsals start, there's just time to show her how the theatre has been restored to its 18th-century glory.
It's magic, isn't it? Yeah.
Our guide is artistic director Tom Morris.
The extraordinary thing is that this theatre, built 250 years ago, is the only theatre in the English-speaking world ever to survive for 250 years.
Yep.
And by complete coincidence, it is the theatre which, when it was built, was celebrated as being the most perfectly designed in this style that anyone had seen.
It's magical, isn't it? As an actor, it's up on stage where one can really appreciate this gem of a theatre.
It feels so intimate.
You feel It's your sitting-room and you've invited them in.
In the refurbishment in 2012, the simplest thing we did, and I think the most important, was to build this stage back forward Yeah.
.
.
so that an actor standing where we are now is completely surrounded by the audience.
In my experience, it is absolutely unique.
And you've invented this thing which I'm henceforth going to call the Tim West Super Thrust which is during King Lear, you sometimes step right forwards, almost as if you're popping out of a screen.
If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water drops, Stain my man's cheeks.
No, you unnatural hags.
And so on Amazing.
It's like a 16th century version of Woody Allen addressing the camera in a film.
Yeah, same idea, yes.
Painstaking stripping back of this playhouse to its 18th-century origins has uncovered buried treasures.
We discovered there's some graffiti there.
Oh, yes.
EJ Harwell, he's called and its And we've looked him up and he was a theatre carpenter.
Oh, right.
And he was also a ship's carpenter.
And if you look just down here Oh, it's a ship.
It's a three-master, square rigger.
Oh, bless his heart.
Look at that.
Of course we're used to thinking about stage crew but the reason they're called crew is because they were the same people.
They were ships' crew.
Oh, right.
You've always said theatre and boats were a good fit.
And that's why it's bad luck still to whistle on stage.
Because the stage crew used the same signals that they used on board a ship to raise and lower rigging which was a whistle.
And if you whistle on stage, you might get a bit of scenery dropped on you.
Back in the 18th-century, there would have been stage crew working up in the roof Do come in.
Hi.
Nice to meet you.
Hi.
.
.
as they still are, supervised by the stage technical manager Dave Harraway.
Welcome to the roof void above the Old Vic.
And this is our thunder run.
So this is sound effects, 1766 style.
Oh, brilliant.
The booming sounds of this restored thunder run are being heard in our production of King Lear for the first time in over 70 years.
Can you give me a Shakespearean cue for the thunder? And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world, Crack Nature's moulds, all germains spill at once, That makes ingrateful man! It's bloody good, isn't it? Brilliant.
Brilliant.
So simple.
Yeah.
Tim has been called for rehearsal so whilst he plays the tragically flawed king, I can play the role of the perfect housewife.
For a bit anyway.
Tim loves touring.
I don't really like opening the front door to put the milk bottles out but he's getting me to like it.
And of course I love Bristol because we've got a lot of connections with the city.
On a day like this, it's very beguiling.
A lot of blue sky.
Very good.
Well done, well done.
Today we're working through the climax of Shakespeare's tragedy.
If you could come to me at that point.
Lear has found the body of his beloved daughter, Cordelia.
Howl! O, you are men of stones.
And Shakespeare masterfully plays with the audience's hopes for a happy ending.
She lives! If it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt.
Or it should if I could only remember my lines.
Look, look.
Pray you, undo this button.
Oh.
Pray you, undo this button: Thank you, sir.
Well done, everyone.
Give yourselves a clap.
Tremendous.
Tremendous, Tim.
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Come in! So much in this scene.
Hello, darling.
Did you have a good morning? Yes, thank you.
Yes.
How was yours? It was all right, I think.
Yes, yes.
Are you happy? Yeah.
They're a nice cast.
Cordelia, not too heavy? No, she's lovely.
Yes, good standard weight, very good.
With rehearsals done for the day, I'm taking Pru to one of my boyhood haunts, the old Bristol docks.
Because of a little disagreement with my headmaster, I used to come down here quite a lot instead of going to school.
And watch the boats coming up from Avonmouth and unloading timber and coal and so on.
But back in the early 1940s, it was a hazardous place to play truant.
At that time, Bristol was a thriving commercial port and that put it near the top of the target list for the Luftwaffe.
On Sunday 24 November 1940, the Bristol Blitz began.
And for six hours, nearly 150 German bombers reigned high explosives on the city.
That night, whilst my family and I were taking shelter, the brave crew of Bristol's fireboat, Pyronaut, were battling to save our city from total destruction.
Welcome aboard.
Thank you for having us.
Thank you very much.
Let go aft.
Former fireman Clive and his crew are taking us on a trip around the docks she once protected.
This boat was very, very busy during the Blitz.
I remember Bristol in the Blitz very well.
And I was only a kid.
It was Sunday nights were Goring's favourite, weren't they? I actually spent most of those Sunday nights in our shoe cupboard .
.
under the stairs with ginger biscuits But it wasn't safe at all.
Each of the hundreds of times the air-raid siren sounded over Bristol, Pyronaut and her crew were ready.
What would happen is that she would have been moored up and you can see this fold here, she would have pumped water to the land appliances from the harbour.
She would then become like a pumping station.
I see.
The monitors could be used for pumping water directly onto a ship or a shed or whatever.
OK, to port, please.
Seven decades on, from fighting the fires of the Bristol Blitz, Pyronaut is still in full working order.
OK, Pru.
If you'd now like to move that lever down.
That's great.
Wow.
Wow.
This is what the boat is capable of.
And, as you can see, 2,000 gallons of water per minute would sort out quite a lot of the flames.
Yes.
Without Pyronaut's valiant service, I dread to think how many more buildings would have been destroyed and how many more lives would have been lost.
There you go.
Oh, God, bless you.
Thank you very much.
Oh.
Cheers.
Cheers.
During the Blitz, we were called to the air-raid shelters over 500 times.
60 years later, I wrote down my memories of that first deadly air raid and they were as vivid as the night it happened.
I remember waking up and finding the bedroom ceiling suffused with a bright pink glow.
It looked exactly like the effect of a beautiful sunrise.
But it was only when I got out of bed and drew the curtains thinking it was time to get up that I realised it was two o'clock in the morning.
And the whole of the old Bristol city was on fire.
Incendiaries, however, felt pretty well everywhere.
We could hear the loud explosions as we huddled in the cupboard under the stairs.
Here we sit like birds in the wilderness.
Birds in the wilderness, birds in the wilderness, we used to sing in our pyjamas.
Well, I was evacuated to Bucks Mills in North Devon and we could see it.
We saw Bristol burning across the Channel.
All that distance.
Yeah.
We're so lucky that we and all our parents survived.
Yeah.
Yes, we should be totally grateful.
I could so easily have lost you before we had even met.
But here we are, 76 years later, together.
It makes you realise how fragile life is.
And how lucky we are.
Remember from our youth.
We've come to the city of Bristol, Tim's boyhood home.
We've set a course for the city's theatre where this evening, I'm performing King Lear.
It's our first night.
We both have links with Bristol Old Vic.
In 1991, we even shared the same stage in Eugene O'Neill's play about a disintegrating marriage.
We did Long Day's Journey, didn't we? That's right.
That was a lovely job.
At the National.
Was it? Was it? Long Day's Journey into Night.
I called it Long Day's Journey into professional suicide.
I remember enjoying it very much.
We were very good, I remember.
The trouble is, when you're a real husband and wife and you play a real husband and wife, people think, "Oh, are they like that really?" I seem to have made a career of playing unfortunate wives.
But in the real world, I think I did pretty well with my choice, really.
I'm glad to hear it.
Well, it is a little late to change one's mind! This weekend, we'll be free to travel further afield.
We'll leave the city aboard a sailing ship heading west towards the Bristol Channel.
It looks as if we've come to the right place.
Yeah.
I was having a bad day, I think.
All right, my darling.
Have a good one.
Bye-bye.
See you.
Bye.
Cheers.
Tim's been an actor for 60 years, but even he gets a little edgy on the first night of a new show.
I mean, yes, of course one worries about the other person, particularly if you've got a part like King Lear to tackle.
Long time since I've worn a suit in Shakespeare.
Never mind.
This is the fourth time I've played King Lear.
The first time I did it, I was about 37, I think.
Ridiculous! Now I'm about the right age.
So we'll see.
It's a full house and as this is the first night of an ambitious production, one is never quite sure how things will turn out, so a few lucky charms can't do any harm.
I'm an old-fashioned actor and I like to have my things about me, you know.
That nice jade bear came from Michael Frayn, somebody else gave me a narrow boat, of course.
And the captain to go with it.
This actually is a tray that belonged to my dad when he was an actor.
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain That such a king should play bo-peep.
King Lear, a vain and ageing ruler gives up his crown but demands to keep his status.
Once powerless, two of Lear's three daughters turn against him.
Touch me with noble anger and let not women's weapons, water drops stain my man's cheeks.
No, you unnatural hags! ' "Nothing will come of nothing," claimed Lear.
'But the void created by his empty throne 'is filled by chaos and death.
'Including that of his one loyal daughter.
' Howl! Oh, you are men of stones.
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so that heaven's vault should crack.
She's gone forever.
Pray you, undo this button.
Thank you, sir.
Do you see this? Look.
Look, her lips.
Look there, look there.
We that are young shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Lear has not realised what really matters in life.
Fortunately, I know what and who matters to me.
Here you are, my darling.
Cheers.
Cheers.
How was it? Was all right.
Good.
Good.
Yeah.
It's nice to be day, isn't it? After a show.
Yeah.
It's nice to have you back.
Thank you, yes.
Time for Tim to return to our floating digs for a well-earned rest.
I could do with a kip, too.
There's no performance for me today, leaving us free to continue our voyage around Bristol and the West Country.
A six-masted square rigger coming up.
I never knew there was such a thing as a six-masted square rigger.
Yeah, that is the SS Great Britain, the pride of Bristol.
Oh, right.
Brunel built her in 1843.
She was launched here.
As the world's first oceangoing screw-propelled iron-hulled steam ship, when the SS Great Britain was launched, she was called the greatest experiment since the Creation.
She was an absolutely revolutionary design.
The genius of one of my childhood idols, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, she is the forerunner for all modern ships.
Salute you, SS Great Britain.
Today, we set a course for another of Bristol's celebrated ships, The Matthew.
Pru's loved sailing ships ever since she was a little girl so I've arranged a trip for us aboard this replica of John Cabot's 15th-century flagship.
There she is.
Yeah.
Cabot left Bristol in 1497 heading west in search of a new route to Asia, but, instead, he discovered Canada.
I like this boat.
I want to sail round the world on it.
As somebody who is constantly reminding me that you don't like to travel your fascination with crossing the world on a square rigger is inconsistent.
Yes, I'm sorry.
Well, it makes life more exciting.
Back in Cabot's day, Bristol was the second largest port in England.
For centuries, sailors set off west along the River Avon, the gateway to the world.
Clifton suspension Bridge.
Amazing.
It's a Brunel, isn't it? Yes.
A miracle.
There are other suspension bridges in the world, of course, but this is the most elegant.
Remarkable.
Today, The Matthew's skipper is Rick Wakeham.
It's a proper rudder, that, isn't it? It is.
This is proper old school.
It was another 200 years before they developed wheel steering.
Yeah.
It connected to the tiller which is connected to the rudder.
Yeah.
If it starts to get a bit lumpy out at sea, there's a lot of movement comes up through this one.
I think that's why it's called a whipstaff.
It can whip back on you.
Yeah, definitely.
How big a crew did Cabot have when he went across? He had 22.
I suspect that was three watches.
Three watches, yes.
Well, you need a minimum of six or seven guys to drop the main yard, unfurl the sail and haul it back up.
It weighs about half a ton.
Would you like to take her? There's no pressure, she's only valued at 1.
5 million.
Oh, right.
Perhaps you should give those yachts a slightly wider berth, Timmy.
It's lovely.
An absolutely lovely feeling.
It's responsive, isn't it? Yeah, absolutely.
Where's my first mate gone? Would you like to join the crew? You don't have girls, do you? Oh, yes, we do.
Bring it round to port.
Pull it round to port.
Yeah.
Now? That's the way.
I've been told to keep things ship shape in Bristol fashion.
Aye-aye.
That's neat and tidy, to you land lovers.
The great thing is that despite her condition, Pru is in good spirits.
Especially when she's aboard a sailing ship.
Pull out the plug and wet him all over Early in the morning Hoorah! And up she rises Early in the morning.
We may not be sailing around the world, but they do say the past is a different country and tomorrow, we're bound for my childhood home on the North Devon coast.
Where we spent the years of the war.
Leaving Tim's hometown of Bristol behind, we're headed a little further west to Clevedon.
John Betjeman called this the most beautiful pier in England.
And so it is.
Built in 1869, it has become a Grade 1 listed national treasure.
You could just imagine Victorian ladies in bustles and parasols parading along, can't you? Yes.
No canal on this leg of our journey as we're going to sea on a paddle steamer, recreating the voyages I took with my father to Ilfracombe at the end of the war.
Jules.
Hello.
'So, today, I've asked my daughter, Juliet, to join her father.
'And her wicked stepmother.
' Heading out into the Bristol Channel, we'll then set a course for the North Devon coast and Pru's wartime home.
So, when was the first time you went on the paddle steamer? That would be in 1946.
My dad took me down to Hotwells and we saw this wonderful ship, the Ravenswood, white funnel and lovely pink upper decks and well-polished brasses.
And That must have been amazing.
You know, we'd never seen anything like that during the war, cos, you know, you couldn't get out of Bristol.
That was the end of the war, really, for us.
Yes.
But today, we're aboard the Waverley, one of the last surviving ships from that post-war era of genteel pleasure cruisers.
In fact, she's the last seagoing paddle steamer in the world.
When I was a kid, family used to often do this excursion by sea, and it was a sort of general thing that families did.
So is this a sort of holiday? Yeah, it was, really.
I used to go to the south of France.
Slightly different.
Yeah.
Yes.
Well, there you are, you see.
So your dad took you and now you're taking me.
That's right.
That's lovely.
You're welcome.
Thank you very much.
She's a beautiful vessel with elegant lines.
We've been patron of the Waverley for over 40 years now.
And I call her the other woman in our marriage.
I'm going to the engine room.
All right, darling.
It's his favourite place, isn't it? Oh, yes, he's a steam freak.
I know.
Tim fell in love with paddle steamers when he was a boy.
Hello, how do you do? Hello.
Lovely to meet you.
Come on in.
It's a love that's lasted a lifetime.
So, welcome to the Waverley engine room.
Yeah.
Yes, I've never been up here in my years.
You can speed up a little bit.
Get a hold and OK.
.
.
hold on to the open position.
We won't blow up, will we? No, no, no.
You might hear a bit of a whoosh, but OK? All the way.
That's it.
There you go.
Oh, yes, I can hear it.
Yeah.
I'm at the controls of a diagonal triple expansion marine engine capable of over 18 knots.
Boyhood dream come true.
The feeling of power is extraordinary.
Well, you can see it.
You can hear it.
You can feel it.
I've certainly followed in my father's footsteps.
Like him, I'm an actor, like him, I love ships, like the Waverley.
He used to take jobs deliberately in towns where there were fleets of paddle steamers.
How sweet.
I didn't know that.
So that's where you get it from.
I'm glad I married his son.
Yes, well I'm glad you did.
Thank you.
Having said goodbye to Juliet, we've travelled to the North Devon fishing village of Bucks Mills.
And here, Pru spent most of her war years.
So, how old would you have been when you came here? Well, it was '39, I was about seven.
My parents thought our home near Dorking was going to be bombed, so we rented a cottage down here.
We were safe, but life was pretty basic.
It's a lovely village.
Gorgeous, isn't it? Well, yeah.
No gas, no electricity.
No? Right.
No petrol.
Only one telephone in the whole village.
Was there? Mrs Charlie.
Yeah.
So, here we are.
St Anne's.
So, this was the church that you came to every Sunday.
Yes.
It's here we're meeting lifelong local Chris Broad.
Hello, Prunella, my handsome.
Hello.
Oh, it is lovely to see you.
Welcome back into Bucks Mills.
Oh.
Oh.
Lovely to see you.
Lovely to be here.
This is my husband.
Hello, Chris.
Welcome to Bucks Mills.
Hello.
This is Conrad.
How'd you do, sweetheart? Lovely to see you.
Conrad William James.
That's it.
Yes.
'I was rather in awe of Conrad when we sat next to each other 'at Sunday school.
'He always knew more of the answers than I did.
' I'm 90 now.
Well done.
You look very well on it.
I've brought some photographs along.
Oh, I'd love to see them.
Come over here a minute.
Who's that, then? Ernest.
Ernest.
And That's Maimie! Maimie.
Maimie with white hair.
That's it.
I knew her when she had dark hair.
So, who was Maimie? Maimie was Ernest's daughter.
Maimie was the star of the village.
Yes, she was.
Always had a flower in her hair.
That's right.
There's one back here I want to show you.
Lovely book, this.
There you are, Prunella.
That was your cottage where you stayed.
Johns.
That's Johns, yes.
Yes, that's right.
Oh, it's lovely, I want to spend the whole morning looking at it.
Shall we go down to the village and have a look at it now? Would that be nice? I'd love to, yes.
Oh, good.
It's as if a light has turned on in Pru's mind, revealing long forgotten memories from 76 years ago.
That was the hotel.
Yeah, hotel there.
Aye.
And then that was the sweet shop and cafe.
We took our sweet coupons there.
That's it, my love.
Mind the step.
Lovely.
Thank you.
There it is.
This was your house.
Oh.
It hasn't altered much, has it? Not since you were here.
Not really, no.
No.
At first, the war to didn't disturb the tranquillity of Bucks Mills, but then the London Blitz began and more children started to arrive.
There were heaps of evacuees in the village.
We looked after Roy and Leslie.
So, where were these evacuees from? Northfleet.
Ah.
It's a long, long way to dear old Northfleet It's a long way to go.
It's a long, long way to dear old Northfleet And the sweetest place I know Goodbye rotten old Devon.
It's the rottenest place I know It's a long, long way to dear old Northfleet And my heart's right there they used to sing.
Aw, what?! After we looked after them down here? Then they call us rotten old Devon.
I don't know.
They still come back.
They still come back, and they come back year after year.
I know.
I loved it.
Some of my happiest memories of my years in Bucks Mills are of playing on the beach with my brother, exploring the rock pools and netting prawns.
Mind yourself on these pebbles.
Yeah.
"I must go down to the seas again, "to the lonely sea and the sky.
"And all I ask is a tall ship and the star to steer her by.
"And the wheel's kick and the wind's song "and the white sail's shaking.
"And the grey mist on the sea's face and the grey dawn breaking.
" We weren't that far away from each other, were we? During the war.
You were over there, in Bristol.
You're right.
We had an awful lot in common, really, didn't we? Wartime children, near the sea.
Both children of actors.
Yes, both children of actors.
That's true.
Yeah.
Funny we never knew each other.
Well, we do now.
Looking out to sea, I still feel that sense of adventure and possibility and discovery.
And that's one of the many things I still love about you, all these years on.
Next time, we embark upon an epic two-part voyage across the breadth of Scotland.
We explore the Highlands, following the Caledonian Canal.
Help, help! Brave the waters off the Western Isles.
I mean, this is quite scary.
Is it all right? And chug our way down Britain's most remote canal.
We've reached the sea, Tim.
Yay.
And I'm Timothy West.
Beautiful.
We've been husband and wife for over five decades.
Cheers.
We've been wedded to stage and screen for even longer.
Great hairdo.
But we share another passion canals.
Cast off, please.
Aye, aye, sir.
Canals wind through our lives, carrying our treasured memories Of families growing up Our moments of wonder And hidden beauty.
Is this the most remote canal we've ever been on? Probably is, yes.
Of love And laughter.
Ah! Sorry about that.
Things are a bit harder for me these days.
I'm not strong enough.
But we get by.
We're at the summit.
Hooray! Pru has a slight condition.
It does mean she has difficulty remembering things.
Oh, my darling! I'm so sorry! I didn't cast you off! One has to recognise that Pru's domestic life is getting a little narrower by the day.
Well, it can be a nuisance.
It doesn't stop me remembering how to open a lock gate or make the skipper a cup of tea.
OK? Cast off, skipper.
This time we'll explore new routes.
It's a beautiful part of the world, isn't it? Make new memories.
I think this is quite scary.
And return to old haunts.
Lovely heron.
Yes, look.
Beautiful.
But one thing stays the same We're always together.
I still feel that sense of adventure and possibility and discovery.
Tim is rehearsing for a new production of King Lear.
And he's playing the title role which is pretty demanding.
Rehearsals can be hard work and intense, but we've found the perfect antidote to worrying about your performance.
Hop on a narrow boat.
Yes, there's no time to fret about, I am a bit pentameter when there's a lock to be opened.
You OK, Pru? Only just.
Touring up and down the country, we've discovered that where there's a theatre, there's usually a canal or a waterway nearby.
So, as Tim is playing at the Bristol Old Vic, we've decided to explore the West Country by boat, an area we once both called home.
Do you feel soppy about cruising through your childhood home? Yes, I do.
Heading back through time, we'll replay the separate scenes from Act I of our lives.
There it is.
This was your house.
Oh.
Two children, both caught up in the tragedy of war.
Learning to adapt and survive.
We could hear the large explosions as we huddled in the cupboard under the stairs.
We could see it.
We saw Bristol burning.
Ultimately drawn together by theatre.
No, you unnatural hags! And by love.
It's a voyage in several different vessels.
There's no pressure.
She's only valued at 1.
5 million.
It doesn't always go to plan.
Ah! I've lost my hat! But as we enter the last act, we know that our final scenes will be together.
It's funny we never knew each other.
Well, we do now.
We begin our adventure at Saltford, 15 miles east of Bristol along the Kennet and Avon Canal.
And it's a part of the world that's reassuringly familiar to us.
This is the last bit that actually takes you into Bristol.
Oh, right.
Your home town.
My home town, my home from home.
As the son of a touring actor, I had something of a nomadic childhood.
Thank you.
But if asked, I would proudly say that I am a Bristolian.
Right.
Everything shipshape, and indeed Bristol fashion? I'm just unloading the rations.
Good, good.
Then you can help me cast off.
Thank you.
OK? Cast off, skipper.
Thank you.
OK.
We're Bristol bound.
Built to connect London with the port of Bristol, the western end of the Kennet and Avon is in fact a navigable river with locks.
Heading for Bristol we'll explore its Floating Harbour, boarding a historic ship we'll set sail further down river.
At Clevedon we'll pick up a paddle steamer and head out into the Bristol Channel.
Finally, on the north Devon coast, we'll visit my wartime home.
It's awfully quite this stretch, isn't it? Yes.
It usually is pretty quiet.
Oh, look.
Look at the water lily's.
Yes.
We're both in our ninth decade, and for over half of those years we've explored the canals together.
But, as Pru's condition develops, our time together on board has became even more precious.
She's best when she's with me, certainly.
Hello.
Oh! If she's left on her own for a little, she gets a bit restive or a bit uncertain about what's going to happen.
Although she's being frightfully well looked after professionally .
.
she wants me to be around.
Now, what can I do for you, lovely? Well, open the sluices.
Right, OK.
I'm off doing what I do, acting on stage, and she's not doing really what she really loved to do and is incapable now of doing, but I think makes me feel I'm being a bit unfair.
But Pru still copes perfectly well on the canal and so for the moment we'll keep at it, cherishing these moments.
Lovely heron.
Yes, look.
Beautiful.
So big.
I might be taking a day off from rehearsals, but with over 700 lines to memorise, I still need some extra practice.
You sulph'rous and thought-executing fires, Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts, Singe my white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder Helping each other with our lines has always been part of our marriage.
O nuncle, court holy water in a dry house Just a minute.
I'm just going under a tree.
But steering a boat and reciting Shakespeare at the same time can prove a little tricky.
Ah! I've lost my hat and my spectacles! Oh, I've got my spectacles! You've lost your hat? Yes! Well, we'll pick it up.
Never mind King Lear, losing my favourite hat - now that's a real life tragedy.
There it is.
Put it underneath the thing.
Oh, well done.
Well Look out.
There's some trees.
There are trees everywhere.
I don't want to lose the boat hook.
Got the boat hook and I've got the hat and I've got you, so it's all right.
In that order.
Will you forgive me? Yes.
Thank you.
On principle.
I think me and my hat had better steer clear for a bit.
Oh, dear.
Hope it doesn't shrink.
I've had it as long as I've had my husband.
I don't really want to lose either of them much.
Where are we exactly? Well, we're coming into Bristol now.
In a little while we'll be at the entrance to the Feeder Canal.
What's a Feeder Canal? Well, it's taking the water from the Avon and feeding it into the Floating Harbour where all the boats are so that the Floating Harbour doesn't get short of water or it doesn't get flooded.
For centuries, ships visiting the Port of Bristol would get marooned on the mud at low tide.
But in the early 19th century, a 2.
5 mile stretch of tidal river was transformed into the non-tidal Floating Harbour.
So called because ships were now able to stay afloat at all times, so the water level doesn't change.
So the crew could go ashore and get a meal? Yeah.
The converted warehouses and high-rise buildings announce our arrival into central Bristol.
Do you feel soppy about it, cruising through your childhood home? Yes, I do.
It's very, very different.
Well, it was being bombed when you were here, wasn't it? Yes.
It's a pretty considerable renaissance.
Oh, look.
Oh, brilliant.
Lovely sight.
Yeah.
There is a special place in my heart for Bristol.
My family moved here in 1939 and we stayed here for six years, the longest time we ever lived in one place during my childhood.
What a lovely steam tug.
Beautiful.
We've reached the Floating Harbour.
That's a very old steam crane.
Oh, right.
Being preserved and is still workable apparently.
I remember as a young boy I would sneak down here to watch the cargo ships unloading and dream of sailing away on an adventure.
You did sail away on the canals with me! The first person to welcome us back to Bristol is my boyhood friend Peter.
Hello! Come round.
Come here.
Hello! Well, well, well! We lived around the corner from each other and share the same memories of growing up during the Bristol Blitz.
Of course, all through the war we were there.
And I think you joined us in the air raid shelters on red and green.
That's right.
We used to play busses on those We did.
We pretended to be someplace, yes.
Well, I was in a village in north Devon in the extreme countryside.
But what was it like being in Bristol during the war cos you were bombed? I know.
It wasn't very nice.
Cos it was a blackout, nobody could see anything and the bombers used to come over Bath and they'd drop a load of bombs and we just sat there.
Eight bombs would be dropped in a stick they called it.
Oh.
And you sat, went, "Six, seven, eight.
Oh, we're still here!" It wasn't all death and destruction for two young boys.
Oh, I know one thing that he had.
He had a lovely theatre about that size, all made of wood, and he had players on it, all on a stick.
And they were Gilbert and Sullivan, I think you seem to enjoy having.
And we had the scripts.
Yeah.
Did you sing the tunes and everything? I should think so.
I don't think anybody came back if they did.
So whilst other boys were playing in the bomb craters, my Tim was playing with his toy theatre.
How wonderful.
Where shall we go tonight? I don't know.
It's your home town.
You know where to go.
We are all shaped by our childhood experiences.
I wonder what other secrets this city has to reveal about my husband.
Tim and I are exploring the West Country by boat.
Having both spent an important part of our childhoods here, it's something of a homecoming for both of us.
We're currently in Bristol, my boyhood home.
But it's not just nostalgia that's brought me back.
I'm playing King Lear at the city's Old Vic theatre.
How many times have you paid Lear, now? Four.
Yeah.
Nearly know it, then? I first played Lear at the tender age of 37.
It's a role that has punctuated my career.
The tale of a proud and foolish old King is perhaps Shakespeare's greatest tragedy.
And every time I return to it, I discover a new meaning, a new relevance to our times.
Has your mind changed radically about it? At the moment, I mean, it reflects very much about what's going on socially and politically.
You know, older people making disastrous decisions and leaving it to younger people to clear up the mess and people walking away from responsibility.
It's ridiculous, isn't it? Shakespeare died 400 years ago and he's still got something to say about life today.
Not half, yeah, absolutely.
Right.
Time to go to rehearsal.
All right.
Pru, cast off, please.
OK.
Leaving our mooring at the marina, we're heading east along the city's waterways to Bristol's Old Vic theatre.
A three-master.
They're lovely.
She is registered in Bideford.
Oh.
Yeah.
Not quite my hometown but it's my wartime hometown.
Very beautiful.
Lovely.
Tim might be the Bristol boy but this beautiful city has played a crucial role in my life too.
Back in 1951, I got a job as assistant stage manager at the Old Vic theatre.
Was it your first job in the business Yes.
.
.
working at the Bristol Old Vic? Yes.
Yeah? It was.
Were you any good as an ASM? Absolutely hopeless, I think.
Well, we've all got to start somewhere.
And the grand old lady of British theatre is a pretty good place to start.
This year she celebrates her 250th birthday.
A lot has changed since Pru first worked here in the 1950s.
And before rehearsals start, there's just time to show her how the theatre has been restored to its 18th-century glory.
It's magic, isn't it? Yeah.
Our guide is artistic director Tom Morris.
The extraordinary thing is that this theatre, built 250 years ago, is the only theatre in the English-speaking world ever to survive for 250 years.
Yep.
And by complete coincidence, it is the theatre which, when it was built, was celebrated as being the most perfectly designed in this style that anyone had seen.
It's magical, isn't it? As an actor, it's up on stage where one can really appreciate this gem of a theatre.
It feels so intimate.
You feel It's your sitting-room and you've invited them in.
In the refurbishment in 2012, the simplest thing we did, and I think the most important, was to build this stage back forward Yeah.
.
.
so that an actor standing where we are now is completely surrounded by the audience.
In my experience, it is absolutely unique.
And you've invented this thing which I'm henceforth going to call the Tim West Super Thrust which is during King Lear, you sometimes step right forwards, almost as if you're popping out of a screen.
If it be you that stirs these daughters' hearts Against their father, fool me not so much To bear it tamely; touch me with noble anger, And let not women's weapons, water drops, Stain my man's cheeks.
No, you unnatural hags.
And so on Amazing.
It's like a 16th century version of Woody Allen addressing the camera in a film.
Yeah, same idea, yes.
Painstaking stripping back of this playhouse to its 18th-century origins has uncovered buried treasures.
We discovered there's some graffiti there.
Oh, yes.
EJ Harwell, he's called and its And we've looked him up and he was a theatre carpenter.
Oh, right.
And he was also a ship's carpenter.
And if you look just down here Oh, it's a ship.
It's a three-master, square rigger.
Oh, bless his heart.
Look at that.
Of course we're used to thinking about stage crew but the reason they're called crew is because they were the same people.
They were ships' crew.
Oh, right.
You've always said theatre and boats were a good fit.
And that's why it's bad luck still to whistle on stage.
Because the stage crew used the same signals that they used on board a ship to raise and lower rigging which was a whistle.
And if you whistle on stage, you might get a bit of scenery dropped on you.
Back in the 18th-century, there would have been stage crew working up in the roof Do come in.
Hi.
Nice to meet you.
Hi.
.
.
as they still are, supervised by the stage technical manager Dave Harraway.
Welcome to the roof void above the Old Vic.
And this is our thunder run.
So this is sound effects, 1766 style.
Oh, brilliant.
The booming sounds of this restored thunder run are being heard in our production of King Lear for the first time in over 70 years.
Can you give me a Shakespearean cue for the thunder? And thou, all-shaking thunder, Strike flat the thick rotundity o' th' world, Crack Nature's moulds, all germains spill at once, That makes ingrateful man! It's bloody good, isn't it? Brilliant.
Brilliant.
So simple.
Yeah.
Tim has been called for rehearsal so whilst he plays the tragically flawed king, I can play the role of the perfect housewife.
For a bit anyway.
Tim loves touring.
I don't really like opening the front door to put the milk bottles out but he's getting me to like it.
And of course I love Bristol because we've got a lot of connections with the city.
On a day like this, it's very beguiling.
A lot of blue sky.
Very good.
Well done, well done.
Today we're working through the climax of Shakespeare's tragedy.
If you could come to me at that point.
Lear has found the body of his beloved daughter, Cordelia.
Howl! O, you are men of stones.
And Shakespeare masterfully plays with the audience's hopes for a happy ending.
She lives! If it be so, It is a chance which does redeem all sorrows That ever I have felt.
Or it should if I could only remember my lines.
Look, look.
Pray you, undo this button.
Oh.
Pray you, undo this button: Thank you, sir.
Well done, everyone.
Give yourselves a clap.
Tremendous.
Tremendous, Tim.
Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life, And thou no breath at all? Come in! So much in this scene.
Hello, darling.
Did you have a good morning? Yes, thank you.
Yes.
How was yours? It was all right, I think.
Yes, yes.
Are you happy? Yeah.
They're a nice cast.
Cordelia, not too heavy? No, she's lovely.
Yes, good standard weight, very good.
With rehearsals done for the day, I'm taking Pru to one of my boyhood haunts, the old Bristol docks.
Because of a little disagreement with my headmaster, I used to come down here quite a lot instead of going to school.
And watch the boats coming up from Avonmouth and unloading timber and coal and so on.
But back in the early 1940s, it was a hazardous place to play truant.
At that time, Bristol was a thriving commercial port and that put it near the top of the target list for the Luftwaffe.
On Sunday 24 November 1940, the Bristol Blitz began.
And for six hours, nearly 150 German bombers reigned high explosives on the city.
That night, whilst my family and I were taking shelter, the brave crew of Bristol's fireboat, Pyronaut, were battling to save our city from total destruction.
Welcome aboard.
Thank you for having us.
Thank you very much.
Let go aft.
Former fireman Clive and his crew are taking us on a trip around the docks she once protected.
This boat was very, very busy during the Blitz.
I remember Bristol in the Blitz very well.
And I was only a kid.
It was Sunday nights were Goring's favourite, weren't they? I actually spent most of those Sunday nights in our shoe cupboard .
.
under the stairs with ginger biscuits But it wasn't safe at all.
Each of the hundreds of times the air-raid siren sounded over Bristol, Pyronaut and her crew were ready.
What would happen is that she would have been moored up and you can see this fold here, she would have pumped water to the land appliances from the harbour.
She would then become like a pumping station.
I see.
The monitors could be used for pumping water directly onto a ship or a shed or whatever.
OK, to port, please.
Seven decades on, from fighting the fires of the Bristol Blitz, Pyronaut is still in full working order.
OK, Pru.
If you'd now like to move that lever down.
That's great.
Wow.
Wow.
This is what the boat is capable of.
And, as you can see, 2,000 gallons of water per minute would sort out quite a lot of the flames.
Yes.
Without Pyronaut's valiant service, I dread to think how many more buildings would have been destroyed and how many more lives would have been lost.
There you go.
Oh, God, bless you.
Thank you very much.
Oh.
Cheers.
Cheers.
During the Blitz, we were called to the air-raid shelters over 500 times.
60 years later, I wrote down my memories of that first deadly air raid and they were as vivid as the night it happened.
I remember waking up and finding the bedroom ceiling suffused with a bright pink glow.
It looked exactly like the effect of a beautiful sunrise.
But it was only when I got out of bed and drew the curtains thinking it was time to get up that I realised it was two o'clock in the morning.
And the whole of the old Bristol city was on fire.
Incendiaries, however, felt pretty well everywhere.
We could hear the loud explosions as we huddled in the cupboard under the stairs.
Here we sit like birds in the wilderness.
Birds in the wilderness, birds in the wilderness, we used to sing in our pyjamas.
Well, I was evacuated to Bucks Mills in North Devon and we could see it.
We saw Bristol burning across the Channel.
All that distance.
Yeah.
We're so lucky that we and all our parents survived.
Yeah.
Yes, we should be totally grateful.
I could so easily have lost you before we had even met.
But here we are, 76 years later, together.
It makes you realise how fragile life is.
And how lucky we are.
Remember from our youth.
We've come to the city of Bristol, Tim's boyhood home.
We've set a course for the city's theatre where this evening, I'm performing King Lear.
It's our first night.
We both have links with Bristol Old Vic.
In 1991, we even shared the same stage in Eugene O'Neill's play about a disintegrating marriage.
We did Long Day's Journey, didn't we? That's right.
That was a lovely job.
At the National.
Was it? Was it? Long Day's Journey into Night.
I called it Long Day's Journey into professional suicide.
I remember enjoying it very much.
We were very good, I remember.
The trouble is, when you're a real husband and wife and you play a real husband and wife, people think, "Oh, are they like that really?" I seem to have made a career of playing unfortunate wives.
But in the real world, I think I did pretty well with my choice, really.
I'm glad to hear it.
Well, it is a little late to change one's mind! This weekend, we'll be free to travel further afield.
We'll leave the city aboard a sailing ship heading west towards the Bristol Channel.
It looks as if we've come to the right place.
Yeah.
I was having a bad day, I think.
All right, my darling.
Have a good one.
Bye-bye.
See you.
Bye.
Cheers.
Tim's been an actor for 60 years, but even he gets a little edgy on the first night of a new show.
I mean, yes, of course one worries about the other person, particularly if you've got a part like King Lear to tackle.
Long time since I've worn a suit in Shakespeare.
Never mind.
This is the fourth time I've played King Lear.
The first time I did it, I was about 37, I think.
Ridiculous! Now I'm about the right age.
So we'll see.
It's a full house and as this is the first night of an ambitious production, one is never quite sure how things will turn out, so a few lucky charms can't do any harm.
I'm an old-fashioned actor and I like to have my things about me, you know.
That nice jade bear came from Michael Frayn, somebody else gave me a narrow boat, of course.
And the captain to go with it.
This actually is a tray that belonged to my dad when he was an actor.
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain That such a king should play bo-peep.
King Lear, a vain and ageing ruler gives up his crown but demands to keep his status.
Once powerless, two of Lear's three daughters turn against him.
Touch me with noble anger and let not women's weapons, water drops stain my man's cheeks.
No, you unnatural hags! ' "Nothing will come of nothing," claimed Lear.
'But the void created by his empty throne 'is filled by chaos and death.
'Including that of his one loyal daughter.
' Howl! Oh, you are men of stones.
Had I your tongues and eyes, I'd use them so that heaven's vault should crack.
She's gone forever.
Pray you, undo this button.
Thank you, sir.
Do you see this? Look.
Look, her lips.
Look there, look there.
We that are young shall never see so much, nor live so long.
Lear has not realised what really matters in life.
Fortunately, I know what and who matters to me.
Here you are, my darling.
Cheers.
Cheers.
How was it? Was all right.
Good.
Good.
Yeah.
It's nice to be day, isn't it? After a show.
Yeah.
It's nice to have you back.
Thank you, yes.
Time for Tim to return to our floating digs for a well-earned rest.
I could do with a kip, too.
There's no performance for me today, leaving us free to continue our voyage around Bristol and the West Country.
A six-masted square rigger coming up.
I never knew there was such a thing as a six-masted square rigger.
Yeah, that is the SS Great Britain, the pride of Bristol.
Oh, right.
Brunel built her in 1843.
She was launched here.
As the world's first oceangoing screw-propelled iron-hulled steam ship, when the SS Great Britain was launched, she was called the greatest experiment since the Creation.
She was an absolutely revolutionary design.
The genius of one of my childhood idols, Isambard Kingdom Brunel, she is the forerunner for all modern ships.
Salute you, SS Great Britain.
Today, we set a course for another of Bristol's celebrated ships, The Matthew.
Pru's loved sailing ships ever since she was a little girl so I've arranged a trip for us aboard this replica of John Cabot's 15th-century flagship.
There she is.
Yeah.
Cabot left Bristol in 1497 heading west in search of a new route to Asia, but, instead, he discovered Canada.
I like this boat.
I want to sail round the world on it.
As somebody who is constantly reminding me that you don't like to travel your fascination with crossing the world on a square rigger is inconsistent.
Yes, I'm sorry.
Well, it makes life more exciting.
Back in Cabot's day, Bristol was the second largest port in England.
For centuries, sailors set off west along the River Avon, the gateway to the world.
Clifton suspension Bridge.
Amazing.
It's a Brunel, isn't it? Yes.
A miracle.
There are other suspension bridges in the world, of course, but this is the most elegant.
Remarkable.
Today, The Matthew's skipper is Rick Wakeham.
It's a proper rudder, that, isn't it? It is.
This is proper old school.
It was another 200 years before they developed wheel steering.
Yeah.
It connected to the tiller which is connected to the rudder.
Yeah.
If it starts to get a bit lumpy out at sea, there's a lot of movement comes up through this one.
I think that's why it's called a whipstaff.
It can whip back on you.
Yeah, definitely.
How big a crew did Cabot have when he went across? He had 22.
I suspect that was three watches.
Three watches, yes.
Well, you need a minimum of six or seven guys to drop the main yard, unfurl the sail and haul it back up.
It weighs about half a ton.
Would you like to take her? There's no pressure, she's only valued at 1.
5 million.
Oh, right.
Perhaps you should give those yachts a slightly wider berth, Timmy.
It's lovely.
An absolutely lovely feeling.
It's responsive, isn't it? Yeah, absolutely.
Where's my first mate gone? Would you like to join the crew? You don't have girls, do you? Oh, yes, we do.
Bring it round to port.
Pull it round to port.
Yeah.
Now? That's the way.
I've been told to keep things ship shape in Bristol fashion.
Aye-aye.
That's neat and tidy, to you land lovers.
The great thing is that despite her condition, Pru is in good spirits.
Especially when she's aboard a sailing ship.
Pull out the plug and wet him all over Early in the morning Hoorah! And up she rises Early in the morning.
We may not be sailing around the world, but they do say the past is a different country and tomorrow, we're bound for my childhood home on the North Devon coast.
Where we spent the years of the war.
Leaving Tim's hometown of Bristol behind, we're headed a little further west to Clevedon.
John Betjeman called this the most beautiful pier in England.
And so it is.
Built in 1869, it has become a Grade 1 listed national treasure.
You could just imagine Victorian ladies in bustles and parasols parading along, can't you? Yes.
No canal on this leg of our journey as we're going to sea on a paddle steamer, recreating the voyages I took with my father to Ilfracombe at the end of the war.
Jules.
Hello.
'So, today, I've asked my daughter, Juliet, to join her father.
'And her wicked stepmother.
' Heading out into the Bristol Channel, we'll then set a course for the North Devon coast and Pru's wartime home.
So, when was the first time you went on the paddle steamer? That would be in 1946.
My dad took me down to Hotwells and we saw this wonderful ship, the Ravenswood, white funnel and lovely pink upper decks and well-polished brasses.
And That must have been amazing.
You know, we'd never seen anything like that during the war, cos, you know, you couldn't get out of Bristol.
That was the end of the war, really, for us.
Yes.
But today, we're aboard the Waverley, one of the last surviving ships from that post-war era of genteel pleasure cruisers.
In fact, she's the last seagoing paddle steamer in the world.
When I was a kid, family used to often do this excursion by sea, and it was a sort of general thing that families did.
So is this a sort of holiday? Yeah, it was, really.
I used to go to the south of France.
Slightly different.
Yeah.
Yes.
Well, there you are, you see.
So your dad took you and now you're taking me.
That's right.
That's lovely.
You're welcome.
Thank you very much.
She's a beautiful vessel with elegant lines.
We've been patron of the Waverley for over 40 years now.
And I call her the other woman in our marriage.
I'm going to the engine room.
All right, darling.
It's his favourite place, isn't it? Oh, yes, he's a steam freak.
I know.
Tim fell in love with paddle steamers when he was a boy.
Hello, how do you do? Hello.
Lovely to meet you.
Come on in.
It's a love that's lasted a lifetime.
So, welcome to the Waverley engine room.
Yeah.
Yes, I've never been up here in my years.
You can speed up a little bit.
Get a hold and OK.
.
.
hold on to the open position.
We won't blow up, will we? No, no, no.
You might hear a bit of a whoosh, but OK? All the way.
That's it.
There you go.
Oh, yes, I can hear it.
Yeah.
I'm at the controls of a diagonal triple expansion marine engine capable of over 18 knots.
Boyhood dream come true.
The feeling of power is extraordinary.
Well, you can see it.
You can hear it.
You can feel it.
I've certainly followed in my father's footsteps.
Like him, I'm an actor, like him, I love ships, like the Waverley.
He used to take jobs deliberately in towns where there were fleets of paddle steamers.
How sweet.
I didn't know that.
So that's where you get it from.
I'm glad I married his son.
Yes, well I'm glad you did.
Thank you.
Having said goodbye to Juliet, we've travelled to the North Devon fishing village of Bucks Mills.
And here, Pru spent most of her war years.
So, how old would you have been when you came here? Well, it was '39, I was about seven.
My parents thought our home near Dorking was going to be bombed, so we rented a cottage down here.
We were safe, but life was pretty basic.
It's a lovely village.
Gorgeous, isn't it? Well, yeah.
No gas, no electricity.
No? Right.
No petrol.
Only one telephone in the whole village.
Was there? Mrs Charlie.
Yeah.
So, here we are.
St Anne's.
So, this was the church that you came to every Sunday.
Yes.
It's here we're meeting lifelong local Chris Broad.
Hello, Prunella, my handsome.
Hello.
Oh, it is lovely to see you.
Welcome back into Bucks Mills.
Oh.
Oh.
Lovely to see you.
Lovely to be here.
This is my husband.
Hello, Chris.
Welcome to Bucks Mills.
Hello.
This is Conrad.
How'd you do, sweetheart? Lovely to see you.
Conrad William James.
That's it.
Yes.
'I was rather in awe of Conrad when we sat next to each other 'at Sunday school.
'He always knew more of the answers than I did.
' I'm 90 now.
Well done.
You look very well on it.
I've brought some photographs along.
Oh, I'd love to see them.
Come over here a minute.
Who's that, then? Ernest.
Ernest.
And That's Maimie! Maimie.
Maimie with white hair.
That's it.
I knew her when she had dark hair.
So, who was Maimie? Maimie was Ernest's daughter.
Maimie was the star of the village.
Yes, she was.
Always had a flower in her hair.
That's right.
There's one back here I want to show you.
Lovely book, this.
There you are, Prunella.
That was your cottage where you stayed.
Johns.
That's Johns, yes.
Yes, that's right.
Oh, it's lovely, I want to spend the whole morning looking at it.
Shall we go down to the village and have a look at it now? Would that be nice? I'd love to, yes.
Oh, good.
It's as if a light has turned on in Pru's mind, revealing long forgotten memories from 76 years ago.
That was the hotel.
Yeah, hotel there.
Aye.
And then that was the sweet shop and cafe.
We took our sweet coupons there.
That's it, my love.
Mind the step.
Lovely.
Thank you.
There it is.
This was your house.
Oh.
It hasn't altered much, has it? Not since you were here.
Not really, no.
No.
At first, the war to didn't disturb the tranquillity of Bucks Mills, but then the London Blitz began and more children started to arrive.
There were heaps of evacuees in the village.
We looked after Roy and Leslie.
So, where were these evacuees from? Northfleet.
Ah.
It's a long, long way to dear old Northfleet It's a long way to go.
It's a long, long way to dear old Northfleet And the sweetest place I know Goodbye rotten old Devon.
It's the rottenest place I know It's a long, long way to dear old Northfleet And my heart's right there they used to sing.
Aw, what?! After we looked after them down here? Then they call us rotten old Devon.
I don't know.
They still come back.
They still come back, and they come back year after year.
I know.
I loved it.
Some of my happiest memories of my years in Bucks Mills are of playing on the beach with my brother, exploring the rock pools and netting prawns.
Mind yourself on these pebbles.
Yeah.
"I must go down to the seas again, "to the lonely sea and the sky.
"And all I ask is a tall ship and the star to steer her by.
"And the wheel's kick and the wind's song "and the white sail's shaking.
"And the grey mist on the sea's face and the grey dawn breaking.
" We weren't that far away from each other, were we? During the war.
You were over there, in Bristol.
You're right.
We had an awful lot in common, really, didn't we? Wartime children, near the sea.
Both children of actors.
Yes, both children of actors.
That's true.
Yeah.
Funny we never knew each other.
Well, we do now.
Looking out to sea, I still feel that sense of adventure and possibility and discovery.
And that's one of the many things I still love about you, all these years on.
Next time, we embark upon an epic two-part voyage across the breadth of Scotland.
We explore the Highlands, following the Caledonian Canal.
Help, help! Brave the waters off the Western Isles.
I mean, this is quite scary.
Is it all right? And chug our way down Britain's most remote canal.
We've reached the sea, Tim.
Yay.