what was going on stopped and stared towards the docks. I walked down from the Centre past all the boats that had been moved into the area in front of the Industrial Museum. I got to the pits and realised they were fenced off. This is where one of my father’s most valuable lessons kicked in “If you don’t ask, you don’t get”. I put my head through the door of the caravan and asked if I could borrow a pass for half an hour to take some photos in the pits. I was shocked when the answer was yes.
Powerboats and Me By Graham Bloomfield Roy asked me to write about my history of watching powerboat racing at the Bristol50 celebration. An appropriate occasion because my introduction to powerboat racing was in the very harbour where that celebration took place.
I am a born and bred Bristolian and I now live on the northern fringe of the City. My childhood interests were Aircraft, my father was an Aircraft Engineer and his enthusiasm for aviation rubbed off on me. I was going to be a pilot, I was going to fly medical supplies across the Australian bush or fly millionaires all over the world in private jets. By 2022 I should have been hauling those same supplies and millionaires around the Milky Way Galaxy at warp 9.
I was like a kid in a toy shop, walking around all the boats in various states of maintenance, standing by the crane while the boats were lifted in and out of the dock, watching them disappear under Princes Street Bridge, my camera capturing precious memories all the time. True to my word I took the pass back to the office and walked across the bridge and down Whapping Wharf past the cranes, behind the grandstands still being built.
I had no interest in boats, I never even learnt to swim. That was until the late 1980’s when I was working in Central Bristol. The local paper published a guide to the Powerboat Grand Prix and I realised that there was a practice on Friday afternoon. I took the afternoon off and as I left the office at lunch time and walked through the City Centre, I could hear the howl of the boats reflecting off the buildings. People who had no idea
I stopped many times on my walk, taking pictures all the time, within reason, this was the age of film! I found a favourite spot on the exit from the basin turn where I could sit on the slope with my feet close to the water, shooting boats accelerating out of the turn. This was a favourite spot for all the subsequent Bristol GPs. On the 11
