Harry Mead is enthralled by the life story of the first woman to skipper a fishing boat on the North-East coast.

THEY LABOUR MIGHTILY by Dora M Walker (Caedmon of Whitby, 128 Upgang Lane, Whitby, Y021 3JJ, £9.95).

IT was a strange ambition for a young girl – especially one living more than 60 miles from the sea. But Dora Walker, born and raised in Mirfield, near Huddersfield, yearned from childhood to own a Whitby coble and fish from it. That her dream came true might be regarded as evidence of a call of God.

She took it as proof that, very often, “when you desire a thing you get it – at a price”.

The price to her was “a long spell of ill health”, due to a weak chest. Prescribed sea air, she moved to Whitby where, in the early 1930s, she had her own coble built and joined the fishing fleet. Amongst probably as conservative a collection of men as you could find she became the first woman skipper of a fishing boat along the North-East coast.

In 1947 Dora set down her experiences in a book that has established itself as a minor regional classic. Out of print for some time, it now reappears to meet a steady continuing demand.

Its success is easy to understand since Dora is a gifted story teller, with a fluent, direct style. Typical is this, picked almost at random: “Dawn revealed the Abbey etched black against snow-covered moors. The cox handed me the tiller and pointed to the old compass at his feet. ‘Steer east by north for 20 minutes from the bell buoy,’ he advised. It was as well to steer by the compass. In ten minutes a snow blizzard had completely hidden the land.”

While her boat was being built Dora learned, via a seeming second miracle, how to work a coble. “I was exceedingly lucky in having a friend willing to take the risk of a woman aboard his ship.” He paid for her year’s work by providing an engine for her boat, which she named Good Faith.

Surprisingly, her fellow fishermen showed little open disapproval of the woman in their midst. Even so, what she calls her “proudest moment” came when another skipper, whose boat had engine trouble, asked her to take his gear to sea and fish for him.

“I had been down with flu and was considering staying ashore, but nothing would have kept me from the sea after that. We worked the gear and came in laden with fish. From that time I was asked for help as often as anyone else.”

Dora relates many incidents at sea, including encountering a shoal of sharks and frequent battles with heavy seas. Her stories reveal the varied skills and techniques needed to cope with different circumstances and different forms of fishing. She also gives gripping descriptions of several lifeboat rescues.

But especially fascinating is her account of the fishing fleet during the war. After a Scarborough vessel was attacked, the boats were ordered to carry weapons. Good Faith’s was a revolver.

A boom fixed across the harbour each evening restricted fishing to daytime, during which a lookout was kept for mines and salvage.

Whitby’s keelboats were placed on standby for Dunkirk, for which they were provisioned with food. Dora tells of a conversation she had with a fisheries officer and another skipper: “Are the cobles to go too?” I asked. “May we join?”

“If we need the cobles you shall go,” he said.

“They’ll be wanted to fish in our stead,” said Skipper Storr.

Disappointed when they weren’t called in, the keelboatmen played football on the quay with loaves from the unwanted provisions. “It shocked the spectators but I understood. It was essential for someone to kick something.”

Dora dedicated her book to “a Great Fellowship, the Brethren of the Coast”. She begins her final chapter, written in 1946, with these words: “No more sirens, no more bombs, no more threat of sudden death from the skies.

Only the war with the elements – the fight with the sea again. The men in this book are still in the battle.”

Illustrated with many of her own photographs – of variable quality but still a precious record – this is a masterly first-hand portrait of a small fishing port at work in peace and war, before industrial fishing removed not only much of the risk but also most of the romance that went with winning a living from the treacherous North Sea.