As a gateway to the North-East, Tees Dock has been a crucial cog in the wheel of the region's industrial environment. The dock is now 50 years-old and Deputy Business Editor Steven Hugill learns about its history, its colourful workforce and just why they had Carlsberg and caviar were on the menu

IT'S inception was reminiscent of a production from British Pathé's much heralded vaults.

A large painted map, dominated by minute plastic vessels and conservative primary colours, was highlighted by an equally reserved host in a brown suit and glasses.

Primitive camera cuts follow the man, now pointing at a new dock, his minimalist gesticulations aided by a voice-over hailing the project's virtues.

This broadcast was all that existed of Tees Dock, a mere artist's impression of the future put forward by the Tees Conservancy Commissioners.

They took over responsibility of the River Tees, setting up headquarters in Middlesbrough's Queens Square.

Their faces remain etched in time, black and white portrait photographs adorning the wood panelled walls of the building that is now used by PD Ports, who run the wider Teesport estate.

But that vision is now a key artery in Teesside's economy, pumping the region's industrial heartbeat and supplementing its rich steelmaking and chemical history.

The first new dock to be built in the UK since the Second World War, Tees Dock replaced Middlesbrough Dock, now the Middlehaven development, and is celebrates its 50th anniversary on Thursday, October 3.

The same video shows workers building the dock, their sullied white vests, flat caps and overcoats a nod to the employment landscape of yesteryear, as they fit steel sections and lay railway lines.

The people may have changed over the 50 years, but the dock hasn't, and it now nestles as the centrepiece of Teesport, which employs about 1,250 workers and handles around 34 million tonnes of cargo and has the capacity for up to 650,000 containers every year.

Responsible for shipping more than two million tonnes of steel slab from the resurgent Redcar-based iron and steelmaker SSI UK to Thailand and Turkey, it also welcomes goods destined for the shopfloors of Tesco and Asda.

The latter supermarket chain uses the Clipper warehouse, in Wynyard Park, near Billingham, to move its George clothing range.

Earlier this year, it also secured a deal with Middlesbrough-based family furniture company Barker and Stonehouse to manage 3,000 pieces of furniture a week from South Asia, instead of Southampton.

However, those deals represent just a fraction of what the dock does for North-East businesses.

Photo albums laden with imports and exports reflect its rich history.

Images show helicopters standing idle ready to be moved to the Falkland Islands during the conflict, the first Datsun cars, and Bluebirds made by Sunderland carmaker Nissan.

There are also huge Caterpillar earth movers and even ambulances, their flashing lights dimmed and sirens silent, as they wait in a line to pass through Tees Dock.

The dock also received the Royal seal of approval in July 1977, when the Royal yacht Britannia docked and the Queen officially opened its second quay.

David Robinson, PD Ports' group chief executive, said it was crucial to the region and increasingly valuable as a major employer.

He said: “The river has been handling cargo for more than 160 years, and at the time, Middlesbrough Dock was the main operating location.

“But the gentleman who set up the Tees Conservancy Commissioners had tremendous vision in terms of what could happen.

“They reclaimed Seal Sands, created a platform for ICI and the chemical sector to develop on Teesside, and worked closely with the steel sector, which has a huge history in Middlesbrough and the wider area.

“At the time, this was a substantial piece of investment.

“The first quay was built 50 years ago, with the second quay allowing potash operations to come in.

“It is a fabulous supporter of local industry and the wider North-East economy for moving cargo to and from Europe and all around the world.

“The business is not going anywhere, you can't pick up the river and take it to China or India, so we have to make the most of the assets here.

“It is in good health and one of those assets is people and it is really important to get good workers into the business.”

Mr Robinson said the dock was also benefiting from increased confidence, as the region begins to unlock the uncomfortable shackles applied in the recession.

He said: “We all felt the pain of 2009 and it was a horrible period of time capped by a lot of uncertainty.

“But the steel market is seeing more optimism and the offshore energy market is also growing, with a lot of companies coming to Teesside because of the strength of our industries.”

The company is celebrating the 50th anniversary in an event at the dock's car compound from 12.30pm until 3pm on Thursday, October 3.

THE WORKERS:

It was like wandering into the unknown. With Tees Dock now built, it was the turn of the dockers, also called stevedores, to oversee operations.

Many had followed their father and grandfather's footsteps into the industry, and were now making the transition from Middlesbrough Dock with their black and pink books safely tucked into their pockets.

The books were a passport to work, with lads throwing them into the ring for jobs.

Bosses would then use the strength of the books to divvy up work.

But it wasn't all about long hours and heavy loads.

Sitting in the same grand room that once housed the Tees Conservancy Commissioners, I meet three former dockers, John Wade, Tony Shannon and Ken Iveson, who regale me with tales of Carlsberg and caviar, upsetting one of the area's top football teams, and singing as the Tees Riverboys.

John, 78, from Stainton, near Middlesbrough, says he will always cherish his career as a docker.

He said: “It was the best place in the world to work and the togetherness of the lads was unbelievable.

“When I got there on the first day, there was a brick shed and two cranes.

“We also had forklifts trucks, but some of the lads didn't know how to drive them, and when we brought the Datsuns in, some couldn't drive them either, so the company sent them for lessons.

“I remember working with Norman Bage, we nicknamed him the hungry goose though I can't tell you why, and he took the first Datsun off.

“That was a fantastic moment.

“In those days, you went to work in the clothes you would go home in, and regularly went to the pub afterwards covered in muck and dirt.”

“My wife used to think I had mascara on from the things we used to get covered in”, says 79-year-old Ken, from Nunthorpe, near Middlesbrough.

For 75-year-old Tony, from Stockton, the industry was a hard place, but a thoroughly enjoyable one too.

He said: “It was hard graft, and a after a while you got used to it, but you had to be prepared to put the work in.

“It was so physical and some of the things we had to lift were unbelievable.

“I tell you what, if they put the bags we lifted on the back of a donkey at Redcar beach, they would be liable for a fine for cruelty.

“I remember when the Carlsberg ship came in, we all volunteered for that job.

“The alcohol stayed in the hatch, and it always seemed to take us longer to work down below on that one.

“When the lads shouted down, we always said we needed a bit more time.”

Ken recalls a similar experience, but also remembers how the dock changed and its operators moved with the times.

He said: “One of the ship's hatches was full of caviar.

“We had never seen anything like that before, never mind tried it, but I wasn't keen.

“Some of the equipment we had at first was antiquated, but the company moved always forward and as soon as something came out they bought it.”

For John, the work was only matched by the relationships and friendships he built while at the dock.

It had a successful football team, which defeated the all-conquering Redcar Albion, was unbeatable in a Saltburn raft race, and even had its own entertainment division, The Tees Riverboys, which included Tony and John, who compare the four-piece to Mr Sandman singers, The Four Aces.

John said: “The camaraderie we had was unlike anywhere else, it was a brilliant place to be.”