Ivor Brinley Daniels.
Ivor Brinley Daniels was my Grand Uncle on the paternal side of my family tree. I knew Ivor better than all of my other Grand Uncles & Aunties & stayed with him on many occasions.
Ivor was born in Ogmore, Glamorgan, Wales on 8 February 1929. His parents were Samuel Daniels & Hannah Burrows. He passed away in January 1995 in Weymouth, Dorset, England.
Ivor married Margery Edith Jean Walbridge in Weymouth, Dorset, England on February 12th 1950. Ivor & Margery had four children.
- Phillip Brinley Keith Daniels.
- Geoffery Samuel G Daniels.
- Yvonne M K Daniels.
- Julie Irene Daniels.
My Memories of Ivor Daniels.
The first thing I should explain about my Grand Uncle Ivor was that he had many, many nicknames. As a young boy, I knew him as Nunk, a play on words for Uncle & this name always stuck with me. He was known by many of his family by his second name Brinley, which was often just shortened to Brin. He was also known by a lot of people as Tich, probably a reference to his height.
When I was a young boy & we were visiting Ivor & Marge in Portland, I would go collecting slow worms. We would go along the cliff tops, lifting up rocks & picking up as many slow worms as we could to put in a bucket to take home. When we got back to Fareham these slow worms were always released into my dad's garden.
Ivor would also go mad whenever I pointed out the rabbits hopping along in the fields. He used to say it was bad luck to call them rabbits & if we had to mention them at all we were to call them furry things. I believe this is because the burrowing of the furry things could cause landslips in the local quarries & be dangerous to the quarry workers.
I remember when I was a British Gas apprentice, I had to do a total of six weeks on courses in Poole in Dorset. After being on the courses from Monday to Friday, I would drive to Portland to stay with Nunk & his wife Margery. By this time all of his children had left home & there was always a spare room for me. I remember we went out for a drink one Friday night to a small pub. Marge went mad at Nunk when he got me a glass of real scrumpy from behind the bar. The landlady didn't want to serve it to me but Nunk said, "he will be okay, he belongs to me". Nunk told Marge & the landlady it wouldn't hurt & would put hairs on my chest. It looked horrible, it was very very cloudy, had bits of straw & god only knows what else floating in it, it was warm & tasted terrible. The landlady gave me a normal pint of cider from the pumps at the bar to replace it but Nunk finished it, rather than waste it. We had a great night & it was the only time in my life that I ever saw him a bit worse for wear at the end of the night.
Years later after Marge had passed away & Nunk had moved into a small bungalow I went to visit him. I was staying at his son Geoff´s house & when I arrived in Portland on Friday lunchtime, I walked straight around to the Conservative Club to meet Nunk. I remember going through the door & the doorman stopping me & telling me that I couldn't go in as it was a private club. Nunk walked out of the bar on his way to the toilet, saw me & told the doorman that I didn't need to be signed in, that I was family & belonged to him. Whenever I visited again the doorman always just waved me through, always asked how I was doing & he always remembered my name.
Truth or tall tales.
My dad & Nunk always used to tell me the same story but I have never been able to find out if it was true or not, although various family members tell the same story.
Apparently, when he was a young boy he was always getting into fights. After one fight when he was still a young boy, he was taken by the police to see the local judge. He was given two options, he could either go to borstal or join the Navy. He joined the Navy.
One of the stories I have also heard is that he was on board HMS Amethyst during the Amethyst Incident. Again I have never been able to find any proof of this & I believe it was just a tall tale.