Pip Staffieri Biography by Alec

Posted in Biographical Writing, Making Waves, Writing we do at school

Biography Pip Staffieri

Pip Staffieri was born on August 3rd 1918 and was one of Britain’s first stand up surfers and an inspiration for Britain’s surfing to this day.

Pipino Staffieri was the son of an Italian family who moved to Newquay at the beginning of the century.

He was an ice cream seller every night, disappearing behind the waves after a long day’s work and then popping up and riding in to the beach but the next day he would be back out selling his ice creams.

Pip’s surfing truly began when he saw Jimmy Dix’s (professional belly boarders) board lying on the beach. Before he had seen Jimmy’s board in his dentist he saw an encyclopaedia about Hawaiian surfing, so of course he had to have a go at it himself. He made his own board which was 13.6 feet long and soon afterward she added a 3ft fin.

Surfing at this time in Britain was meek. You had a belly board that was it without Pip Staffieri surfing may not be known to this day.

In 1966, known as the great September swell, Pip watched 4 legendary surfers surf the cribber from his ice cream van. After Jack Lydgate swam ashore his board in pieces Pip handed him a free ice cream.

Pip Staffieri (and Jimmy Dix) will always be remembered for bringing surfing to Britain. Pip died 28th June 2005.

Some of the earliest ever video of surfing which shows Lewis Rosenberg with his friends and surfboard at Holywell Bay in Newquay Cornwall 1929. 01 DEC 2011 See SWNS Story SWSURF This grainy footage captures the moment an intrepid adrenaline junkie attempts stand-up surfing for the first time in Britain – over 80 YEARS AGO. The video was taken on a ‘lads holiday’ in 1929 and records the travels of three friends who caught the train from London to the British surfing mecca of Newquay, Cornwall. Lewis Rosenberg picked up the craze after watching a clip from Australia and – after carving a home-made eight-foot board from balsa wood – took to the waves. The clip shows him wading out to sea with the longboard under his arm, before attempting to stand up on it as his friends cheer him on. The film reel was passed on to Lewis’ daughter Sue Clamp, who stashed in the attic at her home in St Ives, Cambridge, where it lay forgotten for nearly 20 years.

The Blitz By Alec

Posted in Writing we do at school, WW2

It was late at night the time the tragic siren disrupted the city, there it was the haunting blare of the air raid siren.  I leapt out of bed trying to cram as many belongings in to my arms as I could. Though before I could reach out and touch any of my valuables my mother dragged me out still in her night dress I hastily speed down the stairs and unlocked the door into the crowded street bustling with people trying to get down into the London underground. We joined the panicky people. Finally we jostled down the stairs intrigued to be in protection. An A.R.P warden directed us to a space on the platform.

I heard the first bomb drop whistling over my head the deathly sound murder floating through my mind. There was a distinctive reek of rat and on the rails a pong of oily grease. Many tried to go to sleep though bombs crackled over our heads I waited for the sound of the all clear siren. Bomb after bomb dropped I every time hoping praying that it would be the last one. At last I heard salvation I rushed to the way out dragging my family with me. However when I emerged and turned down the street devastated faces looked back at me.

We walked on cracked rubble, we smelt smouldering flames. There were many churned up crater like holes many of which had vehicles cramped in them .I stumbled along the cobbled street holding my mother’s hand many building blocks had been ruined and most of them still alight our house been shelled, also our entire housing block. I scrambled over our destructed house searching for any belongings that survived though an A.R.P warden pulled me back I struggled and tried to loosen his grip but I soon gave up. The next day my mother sent me away to safety that day will never leave me.

 

The Blitz by Alec

Posted in Writing we do at school

Flaming buildings fall to the ground lifeless,

Thick smoke haunts the heart of Britain,

As fear spreads across our still burning buildings,

Bomb after bomb ripping the spirit away from our souls.

Burning inferno tears through everything,

 

Murderous calls as we listen to scatter bombs fall over our heads

Raining flames tower over the toppling buildings,And our gallant brothers and sisters of mercy fight the hell out of Hitler’s making.

 

People emerge from the underground to bear witness the fate,

The lifeless skeleton of once our famous landmarks,

Those who have lost their homes scrambling over the wreckage,

A diabolical act of vandalism.

 

 

Letter Home by Alec

Posted in Writing we do at home

Hi dad I am sending you this letter to tell you whats going on its all fine really though the messerchmits are really kicking in but I reckon were winning. The war is tough it seems like your never without a job to do. Though we do get a free period. yesterday john went to hospital after merely surviving a crash from being shot down by the enemy. I went to visit him earlier this morning. Were up all night tracking down and shooting planes we barely get a moments rest.

I’m not in a very high ranking though most of those in higher ranking get killed very quickly as they are nearly always going into the air and getting themselves killed in nasty accidents    like the obvious getting shot down by the enemy. A am not in a high enough rank to fly so I am only a gunner.

See you soon,hopefully from Alec

 

The first Tripod by Alec

Posted in The War of the Worlds, Writing we do at school

The crowd gathered around the smouldering hole all pushing and jostling to get a better look,I amonghst them.After a while I manged to get to the front only then did I get a real view the centre was blackand near the edges were crumbled bits of riped up road I reached in to the middledispite the polices roaring where there was a glinting stone no larger than a fist I sliped it into my pocket just a crack in the road as it started to spread across the road at an alarming pace people started to back away as more cracks started to spread in every direction.

There was an uproar as people started to leap out of the way avoiding the flying chunks of road. I stood glued to the spot looking wide eyed down at the demolishing ground.suddenly the cracks started to climb up a nearby building shatering windows in its path.the two cracks that had climbed the building joined together creating half of the building to fall to the ground causing a vast eruption sending cars flying.Everyone was now looking at the center of the town square making no sudden moves.

in a flash a huge sinkhole appeared sucking up cars strangely it inflated to the shape of a dome but it was no time to wonder the cars the sinkhole had pulled in and were now being catapulted I ran for shelter in a nearby shop I looked through the window but all I could see was smoke though I heard metalic noises suddenly the smoke disappeared as a luminous monster like creature extended to it’s full hight it stood there for a few moments before the crowd turned and ran screaming there heads off as they went.The tripod put one of its robotic legs foward and sending unknown rays and murdering everyone in its path I knew the end was near blood came raining down I ran…

Tom Crean Biography by Alec

Posted in Biographical Writing, Shackleton's Antarctic Adventure, Writing we do at home

Tom Crean was a polar explorer. He outlived Scott and Shackleton and spent more time in the antarctic than either of them.  He was born in Kerry in Ireland in 1877.  In his childhood his parents were poor and he was one of 10 children.  He ran away from his family farm at the age of 15.  He lied about his age and joined the royal navy.  He married after the Navy and had three girls.  The second born, Kate died at the age of four.   After 4 years in the navy he joined Captain Robert Scotts Discovery Expedition to Antarctica and he went on the Terra Nova, and the Endurance expeditions too.  He was awarded two medals, the Albert and Polar Medals for bravery for saving the life of Teddy Evans.  Two places were named after him, Mount Crean and Crean Glacier.  There was a ballad written about him.

The Ballad of Tom Crean
Hail, hail, Tom Crean, hail, hail, Tom Crean,
He’s the bravest man that the world’s ever seen.
Hail, hail, Tom Crean, hail, hail, Tom Crean,
He’s the Irish giant from County Kerry.
Walked thirty-five miles in the Arctic alone
To save Teddy Evans from making his bones.
He went down to the south with Shackleton and Scott,
Won three polar medals and a coward he’s not.
Faced death many times, but he never backed down.
Came home to Anascaul, his little home town.

Hail, hail, Tom Crean, hail, hail, Tom Crean,
He’s the bravest man that the world’s ever seen.
Hail, hail, Tom Crean, hail, hail, Tom Crean,
He’s the Irish giant from County Kerry.

Frozen Quiz Homework by Alec

Posted in Writing we do at home

1. How did Scott of the Antarctic die.

2. What was the date when Scott reached the South pole.

3. Where was Shackelton heading when the Endurance sunk.

4. how many expeditions did Tom Crean go on.

5. What was the Endurances’ carpenter called.

6. Are there any trees in Antarctica.

7. can there be wildlife on icebergs.

8. Did Shackelton have any kids.

9. How long before Scott did Amandson reach the South Pole.

10. Where did the crew of the Endurance first set off from

 

 

ANSWERS:

1. Starvation

2. 17th january 1912

3. Elephant Island

4. 4

5. Chipey Mc Neesh

6. No

7. Yes

8. Yes

9. 1 month

10. plymouthpoopcycle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Aurora Borealis homework by Alec

Posted in Frozen, Poetry, Writing we do at home

Glistening and sparkling across the dark isolated night.

The vast flickering of speeding light

When the night is black it springs out from beneath the stars to light up the sky.

A delight as I lie looking up high.

A million flashing disco lights coming from time and space.

Slipping and sliding across the desolate place.

It fires out of thin air and ignites every inch of the night.

Then it fades away into the distance, oh what a sight.