Frank Edward
‘John’ Bull, 20 March 1912 – 18 August 2006
I have known John from the time
I joined the club in 1947. Of course in
those days he was one of several club senior oarsmen who had rowed successfully
in the immediately pre-war days. He was
always known to us as John. I am unable
to establish the date he was originally elected a member of the Club but it
must have been in the early 1930s. In
the minutes for that period his name first appears as attending a General
Meeting on
Once when listening to the
wireless in the 1937s I remember hearing a commentary of a professional
sculling race between Lou Barry and Eric Phelps. In those days the sculler
could be followed by an eight with the bow seat fixed so that the coach (Bert
Barry) could pilot his man over the course.
Phelps was followed by a launch as his father ‘Bossie’
Phelps was a very large man but Barry was followed by a Cygnet eight and John
was part of that crew.
Living in Tooting and when a
boy of 14 he was taken by his parents to the local GPO Office and accepted for
employment as a Telegram Messenger Boy.
These uniformed lads delivered telegrams by bicycle throughout the
locality. Later similarly to the
majority of other Cygnet men he became a post office sorter. During the war years he served in the Royal
Navy as a telegraphist, much of the time on mine
sweepers. Late at night in the bar he
would recount tales of his times at sea, including being immediately at hand
prior to the
Immediately post-war, John
continued rowing, coaching and racing. Early in the 1950s he married Joan
Wilcox a member of the Civil Service HQ Ladies RC. They made a particularly
handsome couple. Sadly this marriage lasted a relatively short while. In the
mid 1950s he became the principal Cygnet coach with considerable success. Later he coached the Civil Service Ladies
Rowing Club again with distinction. Not only was he a considerable motivator
but also, on occasion, quite inspirational.
He remained an amusing raconteur including tales of life at ‘
I always considered John a
great and supportive friend. Over the
past few years and particularly whilst he had been partially home bound I have
visited him in his Hammersmith home.
Invariably he has been pleased to see me and of course we talked a great
deal about the ‘good old days’ and the fun times we had and the beer drunk. These chats often involved news of the
bungalow on
Ronnie
Lambe.